White Paws
by Skybird13
Summary: Ravenflight believes that there is a monster inside of her. Something dangerous, something that arises in the shadows of the night to slaughter mercilessly. When she meets a ShadowClan tom named Stormwing, she'll know exactly what is going on in the dark of the night… and who those bloody white paws belong to.
1. Prologue

**Not really sure where I'm going with this new story.**

**But hey! Imma roll with it!**

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><p><span>Prolouge<span>

A pretty black she-cat with white-tipped paws stood alone in the freezing snow. Her eyes, a pale blue, seemed almost translucent while her dark coat made her stick out in the pure white landscape. She trudged through the icy snow, her white paws seeming to disappear against it. The cold bit at her and crawled under her fur, making her shiver and fluff out in an attempt to warm herself. Her legs felt wobbly from exhaustion, and she told herself that it was time to go home.

Where is home?

She remembered the events of that morning in a blank state of mind. She couldn't go back to RiverClan anymore. She remembered her clanmate's horrified stares; her mother, Nightfeather and her poor, sickly brother. How she missed them. They probably didn't even love her anymore, after what happened.

What exactly had happened?

She didn't even know herself. She had been near the river with her father, Owlheart, and then he fell in. When she had pulled him out, whimpering in fear, she saw that he had claw marks in his throat and black fur in-between his claws. Only four cats had the same fur color as her: the deputy, her brother, her mother, and Otterpelt, her grandfather. The deputy (who was her uncle, being Owlheart's brother), Minnowfall, had been on patrol on the other side of the territory. Her brother, being the sickly cat he was, had been confined to the medicine cat den. Her mother, naturally, wasn't there for one, and would never kill her mate. And Otterpelt was an elder.

All evidence pointed to her. So when she was condemned in front of her clan, she had no excuses. There was no possible way to plead innocent; she, with a torn heart, accepted her exile. Perhaps, she thought, that she had done it subconsciously. Without realizing. Perhaps her jealousy of the attention her ill brother always got had piled up and released. She forced herself to think this way; forced herself to think she had a dangerous monster lurking underneath her innocent skin.

There really was nothing to do but accept her destiny; to wander alone, forever looking for a place to call home. She vowed to herself to stay away from other cats. To keep them from danger. To keep them safe from herself.

But she didn't want to be alone.

The cries of her brother rang in her ears still: cries of despair, and helplessness, and bitterness. But there was never any hatred in his eyes as he watched her leave. And for that, she forever thanked him in her prayers.

She winced as a small jolt of pain jabbed through her paw. A rock. Forcing herself to keep moving, she moved out of RiverClan territory, dismayed. The pain dulled, and she realized that she was going numb.

That night, she found an abandoned loner's den a short way into ShadowClan territory, near Fourtrees. Every night after that, she would only hunt in the small area inside the four towering oaks; neutral territory. Because she would never truly have loyalty to any clan.

Or so she thought.

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><p><strong>Hmm… Well, a bit of information about this story...<strong>

**When: before INTO THE WILD, after DAWN OF THE CLANS.**

**Where: old ****territory, the forest**

**Who: a bunch of made-up cats, mainly "Ravenflight"**

**What: a drama and a mystery**

**Why: I felt like it**

**Anyway, please read and review!**


	2. Chapter 1

**POV is in first person, in Ravenflight's perspective, okay?**

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

I perked up my ears in faint curiosity, but mostly in dread as I flattened myself among the ferns on the ShadowClan side of Fourtrees. My den was hidden among gnarled tree roots a few paces behind me, ready in case of discovery. From here, I could see the four leaders perched on the Great Rock, their backs turned to me as they addressed the crowd of cats. Copperstar, the ThunderClan leader, was standing at the edge of it, clearly about to speak.

I was watching the Gathering in secret, hidden among the vegetation, as I wondered how many cats I had killed this moon.

"We have had excellent hunting recently, and the prey is running well as always," the brownish leader spoke, his eyes hard and cold as he continued. "Unfortunately, we lost Snakeclaw, for obvious reasons. Graywhisker, too. I pray to StarClan that these murders are stopped." He stepped back as Duskstar of ShadowClan began speaking.

"We, too, have lost a warrior to the White-Pawed Murderer. StarClan will honor Cinderfoot for her service to the Clan. She was a noble, good warrior." There was a muffled sob in the crowd, and my heart twisted as I realized that it was probably Cinderfoot's kin. Duskstar looked away sadly before glancing up again. "On a happier note, Starlingsong recently gave birth to Creamkit and Ryekit, who are both a pawful of trouble." There was an uneasy ripple of faked amusement from the gathered Clans. Not even news of more kits could brighten the dark atmosphere.

"Thankfully, the White-Pawed Murderer hasn't given us more trouble since two moons ago," Streamstar of RiverClan announced with a relieved breath. "But whitecough has been increasing this greenleaf… we just hope that we aren't hit with a greencough epidemic. That's all," she mewed, stepping back. Redstar dipped his head in respect before stating that one of his elders, Pouncefoot, was murdered.

Finding out all I needed to know, I slithered back into my den. Twisting around the crooked roots, I reached the entrance inside and slipped in, sighing in relief as darkness washed over me. I liked the dark. It hid my dark pelt and made me forget the monster I was. Only my white paws seemed to glow in the shadows.

Yes, I was the White-Pawed Murderer that they spoke of. They had grown so frightened of me that they hardly used my real name, Ravenflight, anymore, while reporting deaths. Mothers warned their kits of the White-Pawed Murderer, who would stalk around at night, completely enveloped in darkness and invisible except for her glowing white paws.

I grimaced as I scratched three claw marks into the den wall, marking the deaths of three noble cats. There were more than before. At first, it was one death in two months, and then one or two per month, and now… three. I blinked slowly, trying to distill any tears threatening to crawl out of my eyes. It was true; I had murdered them. I just didn't have memories of it. I had always figured that it happened while I slept - sneaking into a poor victim's den, digging claws into necks - and I had no recollection in the morning. So, determined to save others from myself, I listened in on Gatherings, recording the death tolls, experimenting and seeing if different habits affected the number of murders.

It was five moons since the first murder: my father.

I chocked back a sob. If only there was some way to destroy the monster inside of me. Some way to protect others from my evil heart. Some way - but not suicide. I was too frightened of death. What a coward… killing others and not accepting it myself.

No. I had to stay strong. It was the only answer, other than death. And I didn't plan on killing myself any time soon. I took a deep breath in and out, trying to relax. Hopefully, one day, my deadly night-soul would disappear. Hopefully.

I thought of all the people I wanted to protect from me. My mother, my old friends, and most of all, my brother. He was always sick; he had heart failure commonly, and I knew that he'd be an easy victim. I prayed to StarClan to protect them, as was my ritual. Then, after gazing at the eight jagged scratches in the wall, I settled down in my moss nest, the soft surface caressing my fur.

I fell into a dreamless sleep, hoping that the White-Pawed Murderer would not claim another soul that night.

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><p>I woke up and blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness of the morning. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw my position unmoved since the night before. No cat had died. Thank StarClan.<p>

Moving slowly and silently, I weaved through the roots of the tree, exiting the den. Peeking my head out, I checked the air for scents: all stale. Certain that no ShadowClan patrol would find me, I padded into the clearing between the four majestic oaks, relishing the calm breeze and the sunlight-dappled forest floor. It was as if I was born under thick trees, in the shadows, and not in the brightly lit areas of RiverClan. I crept only in the shadows from the branches above, wanting to stay in hiding. Avoiding large patches of sunlight, I veered around, searching for prey. In a few moments, I detected scuffling, and I headed towards it. When I got close enough, I tried to decipher what it was by its scent. I cracked open my jaws, allowing air to fall on my scent glands.

ThunderClan patrol.

Heart beating nervously, I dashed as silently as possible back to my den. I couldn't get caught. I'd die.

Reaching my shriveled tree, I dived beneath its tangled base, back into the comforting paws of darkness.

And thus I resumed my life in hiding.

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><p><strong>HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!<strong>

**:D**

**REVIEW POR FAVOR**

**-Sky**


	3. Chapter 2

**HNNG I have a HUGE plot map for this story.**

**Even bigger than Distress Call. Cause that one was almost completely improvised. **

**THIS STORY, however, has over three pages of notes to refer to. Yes, readers! It is time to write a legitimate story! And let me just tell you that its MUCH harder to write an OC ****story because you can't use characters that exist, and character development and plot building is so much more difficult.**

**Whoooooo! I just hope it gets just as popular as Distress Call. Because this one required much more effort in writing out.**

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><p>(Oh, btw this chapter's POV is not in Ravenflight's, okay?)<p>

Chapter 2

Stormwing growled in fury as he thought of his mother, Cinderfoot.

Killed by the White-Pawed Murderer.

He dug his claws into the rich soil of greenleaf, slicing through pine needles on the forest floor. Why did she have to die? What had she done to deserve death? Was Ravenflight - he spat when he thought her name - nothing more than an insane killer, with no motives but to satisfy her bloodlust?

Muttering curses, he headed to the apprentices' den. His brother, Badgerpaw, was suffering from intense grief; he hardly ever trained, and the once-excelling tom was often being left behind. He was still in denial; he refused to acknowledge his mother's death. Poor apprentice.

Mustering up any courage and sympathy he had, he slipped into the den, blinking his eyes to adjust to the slightly dimmer room. He hated the dark; despised it; but dim, he could handle. He couldn't imagine a life without light, a life without seeing the sun, which made him doubt his place in ShadowClan. After all, it was _Shadow_Clan. He suddenly thought that he might be better off in WindClan or RiverClan.

_What am I thinking? _he growled to himself, _my home is here._

His eyes adjusted and he peered into the nests of soft pine needles and moss. There, in the farthest, most unkempt nest, slumped a dark gray tom, his fur dappled with black spots. His back was turned from Stormwing, so his face wasn't visible, but his tail twitched in a way that told him that Badgerpaw was asleep.

He padded over to him slowly, almost tiptoeing as to not startle him. Stormwing's striped, light gray pelt rippled as he walked, and his amber eyes gleamed softly as he brushed his paw on his brother's shoulder. The touch jostled him from his sleep, but the apprentice didn't seem fazed; if anything, he looked as if he would fall asleep again.

"You alright?" Stormwing mewed quietly. "Is there anything I can do for you?" His eyes held pity; he tried to clear it, but he couldn't.

Badgerpaw looked away, biting his lip. "No… no to both questions," he meowed, extremely softly, as if his voice lost its previous confidence.

Stormwing sighed, his whiskers quivering at his breath. "Are you sure?" he asked again, wanting to ease his pain, at least a bit.

The scrawny dark gray tom didn't meet his gaze. "Yeah," he breathed softly, turning his head away silently. The older of the siblings gave him a sympathetic look before padding out of the den, and into brighter air.

Stormwing inhaled a deep breath tasting of pine needles and tree sap. The sunlight bounced off his shiny pelt and made it look luminescent, forever reminding him of his place in his Clan: the spotlight.

Yes, he was almost always the center of attention. He was a young warrior, recently named three moons ago, and the Clan whispered of his great personality, athletic ability, and good looks. Rumor had it that when Ashpetal, the elderly ShadowClan deputy, finally retired, he'd be the one to step in. He was a perfect tom, it seemed, and none of the she-cats ever let him forget. Especially Cricketfur.

Stormwing winced to himself when he saw her approaching. Her spotted orange-and-white pelt shimmered as she walked, a sign that she had probably spent the whole morning grooming herself. Not that he didn't think she was attractive. She was the second-prettiest she-cat in the clan, one step after Birdfeather, but she was the medicine cat. He just… she wasn't his type, personality wise. Her amber eyes brightened when she came face-to-face with him, smiling cheerfully and blinking once, slowly.

"Hi, Stormwing!" she greeted him, her slightly tufted ears flicking playfully. "Ashpetal asked me to prepare a border patrol. Would you like to come with me?" She walked past him a mouse-tail, brushing against his shoulder and gently steering him towards the camp exit. He tensed the slightest bit when her soft fur met his own, but relaxed again, reminding himself that they were practically littermates; they had grown up together. "Barknose and Thornpelt are already waiting. Come on!"

"Wait," he mewed cautiously. "_Barknose and Thornpelt?"_ He grimaced as he envisioned what could become of the patrol. Barknose was Badgerpaw's father and Cinderfoot's mate, while Thornpelt was Stormwing's father and also Cinderfoot's mate. In other words, they were both mates to the same cat, and that cat was dead. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Cricketfur tilted her head to the side, her whiskers twitching in faint confusion as she continued walking, slowing only a bit. "Why wouldn't it be? They're both senior warriors, and they've known each other forever." Her amber eyes were puzzled and innocent; Stormwing had to keep from rolling her eyes to her obliviousness. How could she not see that putting a cat's mate with said cat's ex was a very, very bad idea?

"Whatever, it'll be okay," he mewed kindly. "Don't worry about it." Inside, he promised himself to keep the two toms from tearing each other's pelts apart. Subconsciously, he could feel Cricketfur's warm pelt pressed against his flank, and he made no move to pull away.

They arrived at the exit to the camp, and they laid eyes on Barknose and Thornpelt, who were glaring at each other with bristling fur. Barknose's orange fur was bushed out in places that didn't seem possible, his brown eyes glowering at the other tom. Thornpelt's brown tabby fur seemed to puff to twice its size, and his pale green eyes darkened when he stared at the other. Wanting to avoid conflict, Stormwing jumped in between the two, grinning nervously.

"How about we head out soon?" he suggested, turning his head from one tom to the other repeatedly, chuckling nervously. He could feel his left eye twitching, and he willed it to stop. "You never know what RiverClan'll do next. Maybe they'll try and switch our frogs for their disgusting, slippery fish!"

Cricketfur rolled her amber eyes, and butted him with her paw, trying to suppress a laugh. "Come on, Mr. Peacemaker," mewed, "you can lead the way to those RiverClan scum!"

Barknose and Thornpelt ceased their stare-down and looked at Cricketfur curiously. "Where are we going, anyway?" Thornpelt asked, his pale green eyes swimming with faint amusement because of her and Stormwing's little exchange. "You're not serious about going to RiverClan, are you?"

The spotted she-cat shook her head, a hint of a laugh escaping her jaws. "No, of course not. Not while they have a greencough epidemic on the horizon. I was thinking that we patrol the area near Fourtrees. No border patrol has checked that place up since a quarter moon ago." Her amber eyes narrowed in thought. "Also, I figured that if RiverClan are as desperate as we think, they'll attempt hunting in the Gathering area. In neutral territory."

"They'd better not," Barknose replied gruffly. "I'd like to see them try. I'll bet that they can't hunt anything besides fish." He stretched, his orange fur shifting as he bended his back. "When do we leave?"

Thornpelt sneered at the tom, baring his fangs. "When you get your lazy ass out of camp, that's when."

"Why, you mangy flea-infested-"

"Hey!" Stormwing interrupted, his lips curving down into a frown. "We should get going. Honestly, it's almost sunhigh. And not to be rude, but you two are acting more immature than Cricketfur and I!" His amber eyes narrowed a bit as he spoke, and he turned and led the way out of camp. Cricketfur bounded up to walk beside him, purring quietly.

"I agree," she whispered, giggling. The light gray tom laughed as silently as he could.

The atmosphere around them brightened as they stepped out of their shadowed camp, and Stormwing felt more relieved by the second. His paws felt almost bouncy on the forest floor, cushioned on soft soil and leaves. They walked along, making their way to Fourtrees. He could see the towering oaks up ahead, reaching up to touch the sky. He paused in his thoughts for a moment, wondering what it would be like to be so close to the sun. To be in the bright blue expanse, with the wind in your fur and the sounds of the darkened forest out of mind, so close that you could reach out a paw and feel the softness of the clouds-

He broke off from his thoughts as they reached their destination. The patrol dodged a few bushes and a twisted old tree with gnarled roots before appearing in the area near the Great Rock. Sunlight danced across the smooth surface of the rock, and over the treetops, brilliantly golden yellow.

He took a deep breath, standing in a warm patch of sunlight. He closed his eyes, loving the presence of light and warmth at the same time. His eyes fluttered open when he heard Thornpelt call him.

"Miss Pretty-Paws," he yelled, almost in a sing-song, mocking voice. "Don't just stand there showing off. Help us mark the border!"

Stormwing felt his face grow warm. "Hey!" he protested. "I'm just enjoying the nice sun." To emphasize his point, or rather, to poke fun at it, he spun around in a little half-circle inside the patch of sun, swaying as if he had gotten into Birdfeather's catmint supply. "Its so warm and beautiful!" he slurred.

Cricketfur giggled, shaking her head in amusement. "He's finally lost it," she joked, whiskers twitching.

"He already _lost it _a lo-o-ong time ago," Thornpelt replied, attempting to stay serious. "Why, when he was just a kit, he thought that he could fly!" He tried to change his expression to disapproval, but that was impossible when his nose kept twitching in amusement.

Somewhere close by, a twig cracked.

Stormwing whirled around. It was toward the ThunderClan border, so it was natural that he, the closest by far, should hear it and not the rest of the patrol. He perked his ears, and he swore he could hear a cat mutter a faint curse. He crept closer, amber eyes flickering around, jaws slightly parted to locate the border and not cross it.

"What's he doing?" Barknose asked.

"Hunting, I think," came the reply.

But it was all muted in Stormwing's head. He knew it was a cat, and he felt a sense of dread as he heard the faint scuffling of paws trying to stay silent. He squinted, trying to see into the dark shadows of ThunderClan territory.

His breath caught in his throat as he caught a glimpse of four white paws, seeming to glow in the shade.

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><p><strong>Woop woop!<strong>

**One chapter down! LET'S DO THIS!**

**Review please! Reviews appreciated. :)**

**-Sky**


	4. Chapter 3

**Sorry for leaving you guys on a cliffhanger. Honestly, it won't be too intense. ^^'**

**I think...**

**Oh well. *Puts on improv hat* **

**Lets do this! *fist bump***

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><p>I placed my paws lightly on the ground, creeping closer to the wandering tom. He was a handsome light gray tom with darker stripes and brilliant amber eyes, and by the way he was fooling around, I immediately liked him. There was something relaxing in watching him goof off with his clanmates, basking in the sun as if it were StarClan's gift to the Clans. How? How could he be so comfortable, with <em>three <em>cats watching him in direct light? Was I so cooped up in the shadows that I had forgotten what it was like to live a normal life?

That was strange. Wasn't that tom from ShadowClan? I parted my jaws slightly, and the strong scent was unmistakable. Definitely ShadowClan. How could he… love the light so much? And how could I not? I was from RiverClan, for StarClan's sake!

I scuffled closer, wanting to catch a better glimpse of this peculiar cat. I weaved through the bushes in ThunderClan territory, hoping my paws were not in his sight. My pelt, as always, was invisible, blending into the darkness and embracing me in its cold comfort. I narrowed my pale blue eyes as best as I could, knowing that they'd stick out. What a pity: me trying to hide my eyes, which I once prided myself in. They were a delicate blue shared only by myself and my brother. The thought sent nostalgic memories to my head, and I shook them out, focusing on the tom ahead. I must have been absorbed in my thoughts completely, because I lowered my paw onto a thin stick.

I froze, hearing the twig crack under my paw. I cursed softly, hoping that the ShadowClan cat wouldn't hear. To my annoyance and panic, he perked his ears tensely, swiveling them around at the top of his head. His mesmerizing amber eyes narrowed to slits as he tried to locate the source of the sound. I watched as he parted his jaws, and winced as recognition flashed across his face. He must have scented something important.

I shifted my weight and tried to center my breathing, knowing that running away was not an option. If need be, I could wait until he passed by; never hurting anybody, no, not in daylight. My night-soul already ran rampant after sundown, and there was no need to risk freeing it upon the rest of the day. Sliding backwards cautiously and keeping my squinted eyes trained on his face, I thought of a possible escape route. My den was in ShadowClan territory. If I ran, they'd chase me. If I got away, they'd sniff me out.

Perhaps I could retreat to another Clan's territory. Wait for them to leave. Then, when the coast was clear, I could dash into the base of my withered little tree-home and hope my night-soul wouldn't kill any cat.

Night-soul. Night-soul. The word felt almost interesting as I rolled it around in my head, and I decided that I would call it that. And by "it", I meant my demon. My monster. Night-soul. Nightsoul. I felt as if a burden were lifted off my shoulders as I separated the two sides of me. I felt almost… innocent. But not quite… as if half of me were innocent of all the murders, and the other half was guilty as charged.

Suddenly, the gray tom (that I hadn't taken my eyes off for one second, mind you - I do have a brain, you know), had widened his eyes with so much shock that I thought he would scream, or run away. Of course. He had seen them… my white paws.

I scowled at myself, reminding me to find a way to hide them later. Coat them with mud or something. The ShadowClanner, meanwhile, had frozen in shock, then regained his composure and crouched down, claws unsheathed.

Oh, no.

No, no, no! Great StarClan, he saw me!

Forgetting any cautions I had, I stood up and pelted away from that area, oblivious to where I was going. All I knew was that I needed to run, or else I'd either kill or be killed. And neither seemed favorable at the moment. I bit my lip in fear as I heard the pounding of feet behind me; however, I hadn't heard him call out to his patrol. Hope glimmered in my chest, and amusement as well. Perhaps he was one of those annoying toms that wanted to win every battle just to prove himself as the best. Well, that certainly would work to my advantage.

Steering clear of a thick row of brambles, I wondered where I was now. I could still hear the paw steps of that tom, slowly closing in. So I was either in ShadowClan territory, or he was nose-deaf to the borders, or he was too cocky and great to follow the border rules. I weaved past three close-growing bushes, suppressing a mew of laughter as I heard him struggling to keep up. The wind was starting to blow freely into my face, and I found that I rather enjoyed the extra pump of adrenaline.

I raced past trees and jumped over a fallen log, careful to only step in places shadowed over by the canopy of trees above. I faintly heard the other tom's breathing getting shorter and more strained, so I changed directions abruptly, hoping to lose him in the thicket of oak trees. Since I had some leeway, I slowed down a fraction to taste the air. ThunderClan. So I had ran in the correct direction, after all. Picking up speed again, I tried to push fears of being discovered down into the depths of my heart.

I prayed to StarClan that no ThunderClan patrols would wander by anytime soon. Hopefully, they finished marking this border. I was running awfully close to the border with WindClan, and the brightly lit horizon darkened my mood. Funny what moons of hiding can do to a cat's soul. To her bravery and her life.

Something barreled into my side unexpectedly, and I yelped in surprise. I caught a flash of gray fur and amber eyes before tumbling hopelessly into the WindClan side of the border. The tom grunted as he fell with me, pain contorting his features. The glare of the sun pierced my eyes and scorched my pelt mercilessly, making me writhe in discomfort. I squeezed my eyelids willing myself to disappear as the two of us fell down the slope. I coughed as he landed on my side, knocking the breath out of me, then suddenly we were airborne again.

We skidded to a stop at the base of the hill, and he growled and pinned me, baring his fangs. I tensed up, trying to block out the sun as I lay on my back, my stomach exposed to its burning. I laid limp, trying to suppress anger and defensive instincts, not wanting another cat to be murdered.

"You…" he hissed, unsheathing his claws and placing them on my shoulders. I could sense him trying to fight against his rage. He was probably reminding himself of the warrior code: a true warrior does not need to kill. I bit my lip and turned my head away from him, the side of my face brushing against the long grass of WindClan. "You… you _killed _her."

I felt guilt and hatred toward myself rising up in my heart. Was he one of my victims' kin? Parent? Mate, even? I flattened my ears to my skull, keeping my eyes shut tight. How much pain did I cause in my sleep? How many families were crippled? How many hearts broken?

"The sun… burns," I whispered out, too overwhelmed with emotion to create recognizable sentences. The light hurt; the warmth burned; the lack of darkness gnawed on my gut, making me want to run away and into the shadows forever. "It's hurting me."

I sensed the shock rippling from the tom and I cracked open my left eye. His eyes were pooling with concern and curiosity, but mainly disbelief. "Good," he spat. "You deserve any pain you get."

I opened my eyes fully, pleading with him. The pain came internally, as if my night-soul detested it and was slowly clawing at my lungs. "Please," I gasped out, finding all of my confidence drained as I struggled to breathe. There were strange spots in my vision as my eyes were exposed to the intense light that I sheltered them from. "I won't hurt you… I'll do as you say, just-" I took in a shaky breath. "-please, bring me into the shade of a tree." I felt something inside me grow agitated at my helpless state. It screamed at me to slice open his throat and run, to take a stand.

No, I told the voice. If I attacked now, there would be no chance of ever being innocent of my night-soul. My real innocence, the purity and sinlessness of my day-soul, would be corrupted. I'd fully submit to being a destructive monster. I had to fight it, for the sake of others' lives and my innocent half.

I looked up at him again, square in the face. From up close, he was more handsome than before. His amber eyes were clouded with emotion as I fought the burning sensation in my lungs and faced the sunlight.

"Please," I begged again.

The tom's expression changed; from anger, to doubt, to pity. His claws were still unsheathed, and his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion, but he loosened his grip and allowed me to stand up. I stood on wobbly legs, and took a step forward, trying to regain balance. I could feel him contrasting my state now to the agile, daring runaway in the forest. How could he not feel a bit deceived?

I could feel my neck fur standing on end with the heat of the sun and the stare of an actual _cat. _Not somebody I observed from afar, who never made me choke on air as a scorching gaze ran across my pelt, judging or cruelly mocking or-

I began walking at a slow, strained, but steady pace, and I sensed the tom's bewilderment as well as a hint of fear as we walked into the shadows: my area of expertise. He was probably praying to StarClan right then. I could see the tree-line a fox-length away. A few heartbeats and I'd be out of that choking light.

My heart unclenched as darkness washed over me like a cooling breeze in the middle of a hot day. I let out a relieved breath and slumped my shoulders as my oncoming panic subsided. I turned to see the tom, stepping into the shadows after me, and I wondered what his name was.

Then I remembered my circumstances.

And I ran.

My ears were flattened against my head in fear, but my confidence slowly grew as I dashed through the dark of the shadows. I heard the tom's cry of shock and anger follow me as he began to run. I retreated back to Fourtrees in record time and glanced around nervously, looking for my tree.

There.

I dived under the roots, feeling the lighting get even dimmer.

Thank StarClan.

In a flurry of emotions and anxiety, I fell asleep.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the… ahem… <strong>**awkwardly written ending. I wrote this pretty late last night, and rereading it… well, it seems so rushed and weird xD**

**Anyway, please review! Also, whose POV would you like to see this written in more?**

**I really want to see this fic get more reviews/faves than Distress Call (my other fic) because that one was my first and poorly started, I think. Yech. Well, if you haven't read that one, go check it out. It's centered around Ivypool, for all you Ivy fans. :3**

**Enough talk. Go REVIEW!**

**-Sky**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Thanks so much for all the positive reviews :3 You guys are too nice.**

**Alright, so I was wondering who you guys want to read more about. Ravenflight? Stormwing? Also, if you have any questions, just ask. :)**

**Just a warning: the beginning to this is a ****teensy-bit gory. Okay, maybe a lot.**

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><p>I was running in my dream. Running from a cat that looked just like I did, except with no white paws. It - yes, <em>it, <em>not she - cackled as it chased after me like some sort of hunter pursuing a rabbit. I panted and gasped, pushing on with all of my might, stretching my legs as far as they would go, but it still pounded after me. As I looked over my shoulder, I stifled a cry of terror. Its gleaming white fangs looked pointed and extremely sharp, and its claws were unsheathed, reaching out for me. But what scared me most was that it was missing its eyes.

Its face was twisted into an unnatural grin, the ends of the smile curving all the way up to where the eyes should be. There were frightening gashes dripping with blood all over its body and in the middle of its face, and one of the ears was messily split in half, hanging near its face and thumping against its cheek, smearing its fur with even more blood as it pounded on. It snarled, and I screamed; it was laughing and growling my victims' names.

It chanted the names over and over, and with each repeat, they grew louder. And with each chant, I faltered more and more until its cries were deafening and right beside my ear. I stumbled, but instead of falling, I froze completely. I had been fighting the faltering sensation for a while, but suddenly it was too strong. I couldn't crane my neck away from its dark-furred head, which was almost resting on my shoulder as it chanted, almost screeched the names. I felt its torn-up fur wreathe around my frozen body and I shuddered as blood soaked into my fur from the contact. Without warning, it tackled me to the forest floor, gripping my head and upper back with its distorted limbs. I still couldn't move, but I screamed as loud as I could, hoping to call somebody's attention.

I felt its blood-stained chest on the back of my head and by shoulders rested on its stomach. It stung where I touched it, as if it were acid. I could hardly see a thing, because its black, mangled front paws tightly wrapped around my face. Its hind legs encircled my neck, choking me, and I noticed for the first time that the creature didn't have a tail. All the while, the monster shouted victims into my ear, making them throb. The legs started tightening their grip, slowly cutting off more oxygen in my throat as well as my line of sight. I felt myself slowly lose consciousness.

_What kind of a creature is it? _I pondered, trying to ignore the pain and telling myself that it was just a dream. _Is it me? My dark side? My murderer living inside? My… night-soul?_

The choking stopped and everything went dark.

_Nightsoul._

Suddenly, in the darkness, all I saw was a creepily illuminated, unnaturally curved smile.

_My name is Nightsoul?_

I heard a laugh, and though it sounded pleased, it only sent shivers down my spine.

Then it began chanting again, starting from my father, the first murder, to the last: Cinderfoot. But it kept going.

It whispered the name of my brother.

"_No!" _I shrieked as I heard it, squeezing my eyes shut and screaming.

Then I blinked.

I was staring at a dim cave wall, a wall with eight jagged scratches lined into it.

My brother. Was he a victim? Had he been claimed by Nightsoul as well? I breathed heavily, trying to push the disturbing dream from my mind. Was that… my night-soul? The bloodied, wickedly grinning monster flashed in my head, and I screamed again, turning onto my stomach and burying my face into the moss of my nest. I sobbed. Was my brother… dead?

No. It couldn't be. It was just a stupid nightmare. It couldn't be true. I couldn't lose him.

That was when I felt something touch my shoulder. A tail-tip.

I flinched and snapped out of my nest, my tears still clinging to my eyes and cheeks. My blue eyes locked with amber, and I took in a sharp breath. The tom before me looked a bit fearful and hateful, but his eyes betrayed concern.

"Are you alright?" he mewed, shocked.

My eyes widened and my breathing quickened. I could feel my neck bristling and my ears flattening, and I shifted away from the light gray tabby with darker stripes. I was going to die. This was it. The murders would all come to an end.

After all, this tom seemed to be a nice cat. He would never allow a cat like me to wander free and slaughter mercilessly.

The end for me.

I shrank back and closed my eyes in fear. I was afraid of death. I knew that most cats weren't, but most cats would go to StarClan.

Murderers go to the Dark Forest.

If I truly killed my brother that night, I deserved to die.

But claws never met my throat. I peeked my eyes open fearfully, scared that one wrong move would cost me my life. He was still sitting there, confused and shocked but still worried. I shakily stood up, not meeting his gaze.

"Why don't you want to kill me?" I whispered to the floor, staring at my dully glowing white paws. I said nothing more, and he tilted his head the slightest.

"I…" he started, lifting a paw and putting it down again, a sure sign of nervousness. "You just… you seem too innocent to kill."

I lifted my head to peer up at him in bewilderment. "I'm a murderer."

He growled quietly. "Don't remind me," he muttered. "You… I don't know, it doesn't seem _right_ to kill you."

I stood up straighter, wiping any wetness from my face and trying to regain dignity. "How long were you standing there?" I questioned, puzzled. I still didn't want to intimidate him in any way, so I refrained from countering sharply.

"Uh…" he blushed a bit. "When you ran off, I followed you here." He shuffled his paws awkwardly. "I was going to bring a patrol, but I wanted to know if you actually are the murderer."

I hesitated. "And… what gives you the reason to think I'm not?"

He raised an eyebrow and squinted, clearly thinking hard. I could see that he was trying to remain nonchalant, but it was obvious that he was struggling for a reply. "Well," he replied after a while, "There were never any witnesses. So no one knows if it's really you who's killing them. Plus…" he trailed off a little, looking awkward and shy. "Your eyes. They look too pure and naive."

I was taken aback, but his words mended a torn area of my heart. Was there a chance that I could be innocent? _Of course not, _I scolded myself. _He's just a stupid tom who thinks that all villains can be tamed with love. Well, _she laughed bitterly, _if there is a way to tame Nightsoul, I'd like to see him try._

_"_You're the naive one here," I snapped, suddenly forgetting about laying low. "I can't control this _thing _inside me and if you think that I'm so innocent that I can vanquish it with my 'purity', then you're wrong." I glanced away, ashamed of my counterpart. "My night-soul is a monster," I whispered hoarsely.

He looked thoroughly jumbled. "What?" he asked. His eyes widened in disbelief. "Thing? Monster? Control? _Night-soul?_" he shook his head. "You mean to tell me that you're possessed or something?"

"No!" I hissed. "Yes. Sort of. Ugh!" I bit my lip and looked up at the ceiling of my den, just wanting to run where nobody would ever, ever see me. "I… I kill when I sleep and have no memories when I wake up. I think."

I winced as his face contorted to doubt and repulsion. Yes, he thought it was a lie. It was the truth! How could he believe in the cliche of love but not understand what I go through? And what was I doing, giving away information and not running away?

He was stumbling over words. "Are you-," and "What is-," was all he could muster. I summoned up my courage and dashed past him, making a beeline toward the tangled roots of the exit. I stopped when I reached it and looked over my shoulder. He just sat there, looking at me with an eyebrow raised and a friendly smile.

"Aren't you going to… stop me?" I interrogated, surprised. He shrugged.

"No." As I turned to leave, he added, "My name is Stormwing, by the way."

I stopped in my tracks. "Stormwing," I repeated, liking the way the name slipped off my tongue. Then I asked a question. "Stormwing, were you here the whole time I was asleep?"

He looked away, blushed, and nodded mutely. "Um… yeah."

I sighed in relief. If he was here the whole time, then I couldn't have been able to go out and murder my brother, or anyone else. I nodded in thanks, and turned again to leave, when he called me once more.

"What's your name?"

I tensed. He already knew my name. Everybody in the forest knew my name. Ravenflight. Why would he ask a question like that? Why was he so strange? Why wasn't I dead? Why didn't he stop me, or kill me?

"You already know my name, Stormwing," I spoke without glancing back at him. "I'm the White-Pawed Murderer."

Then I disappeared into the sunlight, leaving 'Stormwing' behind in the dark of my den.

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><p><strong>One word: REVIEW.<strong>

**-Sky**

**(BTW: I will respond to reviews for this chapter)**


	6. Chapter 5

**Wassup guys? As promised, I'm going to answer your reviews for ch5 here. ^^**

**luna-umbrae: **That's a good point. Hmm… I may change that. Buuut… the thing with her brother may or may not spoil the rest of the story. So probably not. Oh no. I've told you too much already… 0_o but thanks for reviewing so much! You seem like a pretty chill person! :)

**Guest: **Wow. Thanks so much! :D I was going for that mysterious kind of feel, and I'm glad I reached it.

**Darkfire: **OMSC! How can I say no to Storm X Raven? *uploads file* there. I updated. xD

**splinterclaw: **Well, originally I was going to have its eyes be blue, like hers, but then I changed it to no eyes as a clue… sort of. I can't tell you what the hint is though… *evil chuckle* But, to answer your question, the eyes just aren't there in her dream, as if something was blocking it. So it's like a blank space there, no sockets or anything. HAH! IT'S CENSORSHIP LOL xD JK.

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews! R&R please.**

***cracks knuckles* Let's do this.**

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><p>Stormwing watched as the "White-Pawed Murderer" slipped out of the den, watching her fluffy quill-like tail disappear out into the open. He bit his lip. Had he made the right choice in letting her go? She was just… so innocent. He didn't know how to explain it, there was just something pure and naive in her pale blue eyes. Judging by her size and demeanor, she was a recently named warrior; she was probably exiled immediately after her naming ceremony.<p>

How could this be? Had he fallen for a trick? After all, this was an alleged murderer that he just talked to. She talked about a "night-soul", whatever that was. Did he really believe that nonsense? That she wasn't guilty? That she somehow killed at night, without her own conscience knowing? How is that possible?

He didn't feel as if he had been deceived. She seemed genuine. She was so… confused and scared, and hopeless. How could she be a killer, of all cats? She did admit that she killed them… right? In a way? Sort of… didn't she say that she _assumed_ that she killed them? So there was a chance that she wasn't the one who killed Cinderfoot.

Stormwing had no idea why he was debating with himself about Ravenflight. It was as if he split into two parts, one side being reasonable and the other not. But which was the reasonable one?

Glancing at the den wall, he flinched a bit as he stared at the eight long scratches in it. One of them was his mother. He bit back a wail, and pondered the mystery of the White-Pawed Murderer. What could she possibly have to gain, if the murders were indeed executed by Ravenflight? Was she… insane? She didn't look delusional. There was no way she could be exacting revenge; she had never been to a Gathering, he knew, so she couldn't have known cats from other Clans. Perhaps she actually did have a night-soul that controlled her body in the dark of the night. He had heard stories before about cats being possessed. Perhaps she had been cursed by an evil spirit?

The striped gray tom shook his head. Now he was being ridiculous. There was no possible way that she could have killed them off - unless she was a superb actress, that is. The only other explanation would be that she was framed… and then all the other murders had also been blamed on her. He remembered that no witnesses were ever left after the killings. When a ThunderClan warrior, Petalstep, was killed, her mate's body was found dead beside her. No one had seen it firsthand; no one who was alive, that is.

…Alive?

He perked up with an idea. That was it! He could find out the truth through StarClan; why didn't anyone think of it before? He'd go back to ShadowClan, talk to Birdfeather, who would probably understand the situation, and leave for the Moonstone. Simple.

Since he knew that Ravenflight may come back, he left everything the way he found it, hoping he would see her again. He could tell her that she was innocent, and he'd be able to see what her face looks like when she's actually happy.

_I bet she's prettier than Cricketfur when she smiles, _a teasing voice murmured in his head. He tried to shake it out, but it clung to his mind. He grumbled in annoyance at his own thoughts. _I never liked Cricketfur in the first place, _he retorted. _She's just a friend._

Looking around the den once more, he backed out of the exit, trying not to catch his fur on the messy roots. How did Ravenflight do it every day? And how did she end up so lost? What kind of a cat was she before… _this? _

He was asking too many questions that he couldn't answer. He attempted to stop the flow of interrogatives, but his mind kept whirling around in confused circles. If she supposedly "killed" at night, then why does she know this? How does she know that she's actually the killer if she isn't a witness at all? Was it just a theory of hers, or did she legitimately believe she had a monster inside of her?

Hmm… she _did _mention a night-soul. Or was it a name, as in Nightsoul the murderer?

He finally untangled himself from the tree roots, grimacing at the patches of fur he left behind. Shaking out his pelt to smooth over the missing tufts, he tried to locate his own surroundings. He had dashed madly after Ravenflight, probably even crossing other Clan's territories, and hadn't even registered where he was. Stormwing was usually quite level-headed; perhaps vengeance for his mother had blinded him. If he hadn't seen her cower in the sunlight, he probably would have killed her on the spot.

The amber-eyed tom discovered that he was extremely close to the Gathering place; he could pad forward a few paces and he'd be able to peek in to Fourtrees. He wondered why she would want to be so close to so many cats. Maybe she really did have a darker half, and it instinctively told her to settle closer to her victims. Or maybe she listened in on the Gatherings for information?

_Aha! _He exclaimed inside his mind. She was using the Gatherings to find out how many deaths had occurred, since she didn't know herself. How could she think that she herself was a murderer, with all this evidence pointing to someone else?

The truth was, Stormwing was an extremely bright and intelligent cat, more than most. He was logical and sought the truth, whereas Ravenflight had spent so long convincing herself that she was a monster that she couldn't see any other possibilities. She had blinded herself, closed herself into a world where the enemy was herself. She couldn't see the light, because she had already clawed out her own eyes.

Stormwing, however, always saw the light.

Finding out all he needed, he padded toward ShadowClan camp, silently vowing that he'd free Ravenflight from her prison. As he walked under the trees, he noticed the dappled parts of the forest floor created by light filtering from above, and took care to step in both the light and the dark, almost as a means of symbolism, for himself and for Ravenflight. They were two different worlds; one of light and the other of darkness. Could he, a simple warrior, build a bridge to connect the two?

Well, he had to try.

He entered the camp and found cats scrambling around in a hurried panic. His eyes widened in shock. What in StarClan's name was going on?

Someone rammed into his side clumsily. "Mouse-dung!" she cursed, but then her eyes met his. He was surprised to find her sigh in relief and faint shock. "There you are," Cricketfur mewed, rubbing her muzzle to his briefly. Then she turned away from him, calling to the rest of the Clan. "Stormwing's here! He can help us!"

He didn't notice every cat in the Clan staring at him in relief as he tried to comprehend why the pretty orange-and-white she-cat had just _rubbed muzzles with him. _Weren't they simply friends? Why had she-

"We need you to help, Stormwing. Listen!" Cricketfur's sharp mew snapped him back to reality. He blinked at her in surprise.

"What's wrong?" he replied, suddenly nervous. "Why is everybody so panicked?"

Barknose dashed up to them, brown eyes wide. "Baderpaw's gone!" he blurted, his claws digging into the dirt. Stormwing bristled in shock.

"Gone?" he echoed, serious. What had happened to his half-brother? "Are you sure he's not at dirtplace or anything?"

The orange tom stiffened. "I'm his father!" he growled, his claws making deep gouges in the earth. "Don't you think I'd check there first?"

Stormwing squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, pondering where Badgerpaw could go. He couldn't think of anything; he was too depressed to hang around anywhere that had memories of Cinderfoot. He snapped open his eyes and glanced at Barknose. "We'll send out patrols," he decided. Then he ducked his head in embarrassment, remembering Ashpetal's role as deputy. "I mean, Ashpetal will." But the frail gray she-cat shook her head.

"You go ahead, Stormwing," she meowed shakily. Her white whiskers twitched, and wisdom gleamed in her eyes. "He is your brother; you should sort this out."

The striped tom sat, dumbfounded and a bit pleased, his amber eyes glittering with a mixture of shock and pride. He nodded at her in respect before turning back to Barknose. He flicked his tail at him to catch his attention.

"Barknose, you can lead a patrol through the center of our territory. Take Quilltail and two others." He gestured to a slender she-cat with a plumy tail and tortoiseshell fur. Then he turned to a reddish-brown furred she-cat with darker paws. "Rustfeather, you can take Thornpelt and Stoneclaw toward the Carrionplace." All the cats he mentioned nodded, and they regrouped before sprinting out to find Badgerpaw.

Stormwing looked at Ashpetal, smiling in thanks. He liked giving orders. Then, remembering his thoughts from before, hurried to the medicine cat den. Cricketfur called after him, but he didn't notice.

The orange-and-white she-cat huffed, sitting down as she watched the handsome gray tom disappear into the den. Her tufted ears flicked in annoyance at his obliviousness to her feelings. How could he not see that she loved him more than life itself?

Meanwhile, Stormwing blinked at the dimmer lighting of the den. The smells of herbs burned his nose a bit, and he wrinkled it in disgust. He could see that Birdfeather was busy helping Starlingsong, who was swelled with kits. He was surprised that the light brown tabby hadn't given birth yet - but then again, he was a tom, and didn't understand what she-cats go through. Or so he was told.

Birdfeather was a pale brown she-cat with fluffy fur and large green eyes. She was the envy of the Clan, to say the least; to call her pretty would be an understatement. Rumor had it that she may be the most good-looking she-cat in the forest. It was a shame that she had chosen to become a medicine cat. Not that Stormwing had feelings for her. Sure, she was beautiful, but beauty isn't everything. And not that Birdfeather was vain or mean - she was very kind, but her assertive personality made her an enemy you didn't want to have. Even so, if she had become a warrior, practically every tom would be padding after her.

Starlingsong smiled as Stormwing came into view. "Hi, there!" she purred. She seemed overly cheery for a hormonal she-cat. He grinned back.

"Hey," he called back. "How's it going?" He had meant to talk to Birdfeather right away, alone - he forgot that Starlingsong would be there. It wasn't that he didn't trust the brown tabby. Birdfeather was probably his best friend in the Clan, and she'd be the only one who could understand Ravenflight's problem. "Birdfeather, can I talk to you?"

Birdfeather turned around from her pile of herbs and brightened when she saw him. She still had a leaf in her jaws. "Stormwing," she greeted, pausing for a moment, as if to contemplate putting down the leaf or not. She dropped it back into the pile. From the scent, he assumed it to be marigold. "What do you want to talk about?" she asked, wiping her muzzle with her paw to take off any excess pieces of marigold. Her green eyes glanced at him questioningly.

The light gray tom pretended to be embarrassed, willing his face to flush red. He scuffled his paws on the ground. "I, uh, need advice about mates…" he trailed off, casting a quick look at Starlingsong. By her expression, he could tell she bought it. He focused back on Birdfeather. "Could we talk alone?"

The light brown she-cat raised an eyebrow, clearly not falling for his trick but deciding that she'd go with his little skit. "Alright," she replied, starting for the exit. She looked back at the pregnant soon-to-be mother. "Call me if you need anything," she mewed over her shoulder.

"Tell Cricketfur that I said congratulations!" her reply followed them.

Stormwing's face grew hot without his consent this time. Why was every cat assuming that Cricketfur and he were mates? They were friends!

Birdfeather led him to a secluded corner of camp. She twitched her whiskers. "So? I know you're not here to talk about Cricketfur," she announced. "What sort of secret are you harboring now?"

The amber-eyed tom glanced away, suddenly not sure what he should say. "You have to promise not to freak out or tell anybody," he sighed, biting his lip. He saw her squint suspiciously through the corner of his eye.

"Hmph… alright," she agreed.

"Not a soul! Got it?"

"I get it," she snapped, rolling her eyes. He took a deep breath and wondered how in StarClan's name he should begin speaking.

Stormwing looked the medicine cat straight in the eye, completely serious. "I met Ravenflight today."

She blinked her green eyes once, registering what he said, before making them grow wide as she gasped. "You're serious?"

"Yes. I saw her on my patrol." He met her incredulous stare unwaveringly, jaw set in a firm line. "I chased her around, trying to catch her, and then I almost did." Her ears twitched in shock, something habitual that he was accustomed to since he first met her. "We crashed out into the sunlight, and I had her pinned, but she was saying something about the light hurting her. I brought her to the shade, and then she ran off. I ended up tracking her to her 'den', and I waited until she woke up. We talked, sort of, because I kind of forced her to talk, but she said something really strange about an evil half of her named Nightsoul, and it takes over her during sleep and kills cats. But the thing is, its just a theory of hers and she actually believes that she's responsible for all these cat's deaths, even though it's clear that she's been framed-"

"Hold on," she mewed, shaking her head in frustration. "Slow the hell down. You're saying that you _found a murderer _but didn't kill her," Stormwing opened his mouth to interject, but she glared at him before continuing, "and now you think she's actually being framed? You know how ridiculous the sounds, right?"

Stormwing sighed in exasperation. "I know. But it's less ridiculous than her own idea of what's happening. She actually thinks that she kills at night because of Nightsoul."

"Anyone can lie," she retorted.

"If you saw the look in her eye, you wouldn't say that," he replied. "She looked too pure. Too… unblemished. And I know this sounds crazy, but I need your help. Can you take me to the Moonstone, so I can check with the victims themselves?"

Her eyebrow lifted up again, and she pursed her lips into a thin line. He pleaded at her with his face, offering a little half-smile. She sighed in submission.

"Agh, fine. I'll take you there. I'm not guaranteeing this is going to work, though."

Stormwing grinned. "Thanks, Bird-brain," he teased, flicking her ears with his tail and bounding away. She hissed in annoyance and made her way back to the medicine cat den, muttering something along the lines of, "mousebrained, air-headed suck-up".

He wondered what Ravenflight was doing right then. Perhaps she was going back to her den? Or was she going to find a new one? Of course, he might not ever know for sure.

But it was okay to hope, right?

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><p><strong>Review please!<strong>

**-Sky**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! I'm glad this story is getting a lot of positive feedback. :3**

**Welp, I'm probably going to be really busy with ****this fic instead of DC (Distress Call), so lucky you! This story will most likely be updated more often.**

**And, uh… I made a mistake toward the beginning of this story, and I said that Starlingsong's kits were already born. Disregard that, please! She is still quite pregnant.**

**Now.**

**R&R please!**

**(BTW, first part of this chapter is in the POV of someone that we haven't seen the POV of before! Also, its a little further back in time. Just for the beginning. ^^)**

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><p>I snuck forward, following the trail of trampled down grass as I sniffed the air. Cricketfur had come back to the Clan, and she had told me that Stormwing ran off somewhere during the patrol. I didn't have much else to do, and I didn't get out of camp often anymore, but I decided to look for him. Somebody had to.<p>

The trails twisted and turned through ShadowClan territory, and even through other territories. Why would Stormwing go through ThunderClan's forest? Had he been chasing prey across borders?

I decided not to cross the border, and found instead that the trail came back to the ShadowClan side eventually. I followed it, nose close to the ground, to Fourtrees. The trail smelled oddly bland, as if some loner had crossed paths here as well. Yet it had a faded scent of fish. Perhaps Stormwing was chasing some cat through RiverClan territory? Or perhaps it was a RiverClan cat?

No, that couldn't be it; the fish-smell was not strong enough for RiverClanners.

It was more like…

I stopped in my tracks. Could it be? Could Stormwing have found the trail of an exiled RiverClan warrior - the White-Pawed Murderer? Quickening my pace, I followed the trail even faster, not caring to stay quiet until the scents became quite fresh; probably only an hour ago. Slowing, I took care to step with the pads of my feet, not knowing if Ravenflight had been captured by Stormwing or vice versa. What if Stormwing had been killed in his attempts to catch the murderer? I swallowed a lump in my throat and stalked on silently until the trail disappeared under a gnarled little tree.

All was silent.

Were they both dead?

I crept past the roots of the tree, my smaller form making it easier for me to brush by. Stopping just beyond sight, I peeked around the corner, blinking to adjust to my eyes to the darkness. I stifled a gasp.

An exhausted-looking, but still quite pretty, she-cat with four white-tipped paws was sleeping in a mossy nest, face twitching as if in a nightmare. And sitting to her side, watching her, was a muscular light gray tom with darker stripes and amber eyes.

Stormwing.

Doing nothing to the criminal, that murderer, who killed his own mother!

My mother.

My breath hitched in my throat, and I forced myself to stay calm, trying to center my breathing and stay silent. I knew with a glance at my half-brother's face that he had fallen for the cat before him. I knew him well enough to know that he never loved Cricketfur. But now? Why would he fall in love with a murderer? An exiled fugitive? Was I reading his face correctly?

Yes. The way his eyes widened a bit in wonder as he gazed at her, his slightly worried expression, the way his ears titled - it was all there, as easy to read as a book. How? How could he betray me like this? How could he betray Cinderfoot?

Perhaps Ravenflight had bewitched him somehow, made him unable to think straight. Yes, that was it. It had to be. I tried to hold in a nervous giggle. How stupid I had been! To think that Stormwing would willingly love a freak! I backed out of the den, and once I was far enough out, I raced away in no particular direction, forgetting to stay quiet.

Stormwing was entranced! Simply screwed in the head! I let out an audible laugh, and tried to suppress it by putting my paw to my mouth. I kept laughing uncontrollably, flopping down on the forest floor and focusing on everything and nothing all at the same time. His brain was full of foxdung, loads and loads of it! Ravenflight had made dirt in his brain. She was a fox! A smelly, evil old fox with nothing but beetles for brains.

I better watch out, or she'll make dirt in my brain! I wheezed for breath, unsheathing my claws for no reason and my tail twitching madly. Of course, that's why I thought she was beautiful! I thought she was extraordinarily pretty… whoops! Too late! She's poisoned my mind already! She's probably an ugly old hag without her trickery. Uglier than a badger's behind! I cackled, my voice getting several octaves higher than normal.

I could feel myself losing my grip on sanity; my claws, which were holding on for dear life, were slowly slipping closer to the edge of the cliff, threatening to drop me onto the sharp rocks below. My mind and thoughts were a mess, scattering in every direction.

Kill her.

I'd kill her.

Then Stormwing'll come to his senses.

I snorted giddily. I had to kill her or else I'd end up like Stormwing and Cinderfoot. Either dead or hopelessly enchanted by her fake beauty.

Envisioning plans to free my brother from her curse, I stalked off to pursue her trail once more.

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><p><strong>(Ravenflight's POV is next ^^)<strong>

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><p>Finding a new place was hard. My old den was perfect; it made it possible for me to listen in on Gatherings as well as stay on neutral territory. Now, my almost-utopian den was lost thanks to my stupidity.<p>

I growled to myself when I thought of Stormwing. He legitimately thought that I was… innocent. Was he right? It wasn't the idea of my innocence that bothered me, not at all - I wished that were so - but rather the fact that he was getting my hopes up even when he could be wrong. If he wasn't wrong, well, I'd be free of this exile. But if he was… then it would be better to not believe him in the first place.

It was midday - not long after I had escaped from Stormwing, if you can call it an escape. My head was hurting, and I realized that I hadn't had a drink since the day before. I was on ThunderClan territory, which I knew well (it was one of my favorite clans next to ShadowClan, because it wasn't so… exposed to the sun) and I pinpointed the quiet rushing of a creek from where I was. Licking my dry lips in anticipation, I darted as silently as I could toward the water source, dodging twigs and crunchy leaves skillfully, just in case a patrol was nearby. The trees began to thin out, and I took care to step in the dappled shadows, as was my custom. The creek came into view.

I checked the length of the creek in case a patrol headed along; this creek was part of the river that was the border at Sunningrocks. When I saw nor scented no one, I braced myself and padded into the light, trying to ignore the burning sensations that crept along my back. Taking a few long gulps of water, I swallowed them abruptly and dashed back into the shadows of the forest, soothed by the cooling water on my tongue and the shadows encasing me.

I glanced back once more to make sure that no cat was watching me, when I caught a glimpse of something moving on the over side of the creek. I prepared to run, my muscles tensing, but then, looking at its small form and its fluffy fur, realized that it was simply a kit. It was a cute little tomcat with large red and brown spots and bright green eyes. I assumed that he was from RiverClan, but I didn't recognize him from before my exile. So he was under five moons old. Huh.

He was walking with an exaggerated bounce in his step, and he looked quite chipper as he skipped along the side of the creek. His rather large green eyes twinkled, and I suppressed a chuckle at how out-of-proportion his eyes and head were to the rest of his body. Although, from the way he carried himself, he probably thought of himself as very handsome.

He was far enough away that his untrained kit eyes couldn't see me, but close enough that I could observe quietly. He took very large steps for his size, and was most likely full of himself; perhaps he was Streamstar's kit? What was he doing so far from his camp?

I turned away slowly. It was time to go, before a patrol came looking for the lost kit. Suddenly there was a jerk of movement I caught from the corner of my eye, and when I snapped my head around to see, the little kit was falling into the water with a loud splash. Glimmering droplets of water were everywhere, and for a moment I simply stared, trying to process what had happened. Then it hit me: the little kit had slipped into the creek.

That was no problem, right? After all, RiverClan cats were trained to swim even before apprenticeship. However, as the kit's head bobbed up and down in sporadic bursts, I had second thoughts. He wasn't swimming at all! Frantically, I looked around at the bank on the other side. Was there no patrol to help?

No.

"Fox-dung," I muttered under my breath, eyes widening as I saw the kit practically drowning before my eyes. I couldn't help him; it was broad daylight and a patrol could come along any minute. But I couldn't leave him to die.

He was thrashing madly, and with each heartbeat that passed, he sank lower. He was swallowing too much water, and his kit feet probably couldn't reach the shallow floor. It would be so easy for me to sweep by and save him, but then again, it was too risky.

Then I made a decision. What did I have to lose?

I crossed the distance between myself and the creek in two swift bounds and plunged into the water. It was refreshing, and cold, and it sloshed around my chin. It was much deeper than I thought, but I could handle it. Wading forward, I moved toward the drowning kit. He bobbed once, then twice, before turning his head and catching a glimpse of me. His eyes widened in horror.

"White-Pawed-" he spluttered, sinking again, before coming back up, "- Murderer!" He attempted to churn in the water faster, making him bob furiously and proving quite difficult for me to reach him.

Finally I did, and I sank my teeth into his scruff. I ignored his cry of anger and fear, and waded the rest of the way to the other bank, the water lowering to my chest and finally low enough for me to crawl out of the creek and onto the opposite edge. I was slightly winded: the sun, my lack of swimming for five moons, and the kit's attempts to fight back had chipped a bit away from me. I gently set the kit down on the forest floor.

His eyes grew huge, blinking up at me in confusion and shock and unwavering fear. I looked around to make sure no one witnessed what had happened. I glanced at the kit in worry. "Hey," I addressed softly, not wanting to attract attention to any possibly nearby patrols. "Little kit, I'm not going to hurt you."

His neck fur flattened a tiny bit, but he still looked wary. "My name is Patchkit," he huffed, "and my momma said to run away if I find a black cat with white paws." He growled a tiny bit, growing bolder. "My momma's the Clan leader. She's always right!"

I looked away, squeezing my eyes shut and fighting away the sorrow welling up in my heart. Would I ever be liked? At all? And more importantly, would I ever fix this problem of mine? I glanced back at the kit, and attempted a warm smile. "Okay, Patchkit," I mewed, trying to sound friendly, "I'll leave. But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone about this, alright?"

He stared up at me with wide eyes. "I'm a drypaw," he mewed randomly.

I stared back, a bit taken aback. "I…" I sputtered, before shaking my head briefly and purring. "I was a drypaw at first, too, but I became an awesome swimmer after practicing a lot. I'm pretty sure you'll become the best swimmer in the Clan if you try hard enough!"

He blinked, and his eyes softened a bit. He tilted his head. "You're not the White-Pawed Murderer, are you?"

I stiffened. "What?"

"You're not the one who killed Owlheart, right?"

I stood there, shocked at this child that said almost the same thing that Stormwing did. I realized that I didn't have an answer. "I… I don't know."

I turned around, leaving the kit mewing for me to come back, as I crossed the creek and returned to the ThunderClan side of it.

"Ravenflight! Come back here tomorrow, okay?" I heard him call in his high pitched voice. "I'm going to sneak out of camp again, and then we can be friends!"

Friends.

I turned around, smiling at the little kit. "Okay," I meowed softly. I was sure he couldn't hear it, but his smile widened into a grin.

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><p><strong>Ookay. So Patchkit is like an adorable little brother figure. If you hadn't guessed already, he's got the ego of Berrynose and the wisdom of a very young Cinderpelt. :)<strong>

**Welpppppp. Review please!**

**-Sky**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hrm hrm. ****What should I write about here in this AN...**

**Ah, well. Let's respond to some of your reviews!**

**Lilyshine: **Lol I'm glad you liked the summary! xD Also, you'll have to wait and see about what Badgerpaw discovers. And the tunnels… well, that just may be something I'll take into consideration. It is dark, and technically neutral territory, so that might work. :) And I'm not sure if I will finish this in time for Christmas, but I'll try!

**Yowl: **Do you like him? He's going to play a huge part later, *hint, hint*

**splinterclaw: ***great. Sorry, I'm just a huge grammar Nazi. And the cat in the beginning of the chapter was Badgerpaw, and yes, he is a bit delusional. :)

**Snowflower3618: **I'm glad you like it! :D hopefully I'll finish this chapter soon enough for Christmas (I'm writing this AN before the actual chapter, sooo)

**Also, for all of you that thought Ravenflight should actually be the murderer, I'm afraid you'll get some bad news in this chapter. Welp. We'll have to wait and see, hn?**

**Here's the chapter. ^^**

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><p>Stormwing grimaced as he felt the nasty-tasting herbs slide down his throat like a dead toad. He had never been fond of frogs or toads, despite living in ShadowClan. He swallowed quickly, hoping that the aftertaste would fade away faster. Birdfeather watched him in amusement, flicking her tail before lapping up her own. She licked her lips and straightened, looking Stormwing directly in the eyes.<p>

"We'll leave at sunhigh, alright?" the pale brown she-cat mewed, not waiting for a reply before continuing. "Make sure the traveling herbs settle in your stomach correctly. Don't drink water until it does. And one more thing," she added, eyes brightening as she remembered something. "On the way there, we're going to stop by at RiverClan's camp. I know that it'll take longer to arrive at Highstones, but with their greencough epidemic, they'll need some more catmint." The beautiful medicine cat pawed at a bundle of sweet smelling leaves.

"Wait, RiverClan?" Stormwing asked incredulously. "Don't they have the most catmint out of any Clan?"

Birdfeather sighed, looking tired. "Heatherspots told me last half-moon. Some cat - badger, rogue, something - had utterly destroyed their supplies of catmint. They need more."

The light gray tom blinked at her with his amber eyes. Sometimes, with all her sass and snappiness, it was easy to forget how kind she was. He grinned at her, twitching his whiskers, before touching his nose to her ear briefly. "Whatever you say, bird-brain," he joked before padding out of the den. He could sense the medicine cat raise an eyebrow and huff before turning back to work.

It had been only an hour since he had returned to camp and found Badgerpaw missing. He still wasn't found, and Quilltail's patrol hadn't yet returned. It frightened him a bit, that he should go missing, but he dismissed the thought with a shrug. He was an apprentice, not a kit; he could handle being alone in his own territory. All around him, the Clan shared tongues; it was almost sunhigh. Rustfeather sat with her brother, Stoneclaw, joking about something, and Quilltail was sitting with a very round Starlingsong and Cricketfur in something of a gossip circle. Typical she-cats. He rolled his eyes, a smile tugging on his lips as they giggled and poked Rustfeather with questions that made her turn red. Well, redder than she already was, since she was a naturally russet-colored cat. Thornpelt and Ashpetal sat with Duskstar and glanced his way every once in a while; still not unusual. They were probably talking of his future deputy position, as if it had already happened. Stormwing bit his lip and looked away. Could he handle being deputy?

He had no time to answer his own question before Cricketfur came bounding to his side with a happy purr. "Stormwing, come sit with us!" she meowed, licking his cheek. He tried not to stiffen in shock and followed her, telling himself that she was just a friend and nothing but a friend.

Starlingsong and Quilltail practically squealed when Cricketfur twined tails with him and sat down, her orange-and-white fur blending with his light grey. He tried not to hurt her feelings, so he made no move to pull away.

_I bet black fur would fit better with your gray fur than orange, _a voice told him, sounding like a snicker. _Gray and orange together are the colors of mold. Gray and black, on the other hand, with a hint of white sounds like a birch tree. Which is better, a birch tree or mold?_

_Neither, shut up, _he growled back in his head. He didn't even hear the she-cats' conversation.

_You can't have both, Stormy. Mold will eventually destroy trees, you know._

_Get out of my head._

_I'm afraid I can't, Stormy, I'm part of your mind._

_No you're not. Stop it with the "Stormy", too. It sounds like a kitty pet name._

_Stormy, I'm just a bunch of thoughts. Learn to control them. In fact, you're actually in control right now. I'm not a separate being._

_Shut up-_

"Wait, are you serious?" Quilltail's mew brought him back down to earth. He blinked.

"Uh, what?" he stuttered, ears getting red. He hadn't heard the question, and it sounded important. Cricketfur pressed against his side, fur touching.

"Not yet," Cricketfur replied to the unknown question with a wink at her friend. Her smile widened in glee. The slender she-cat exchanged a look with Starlingsong, and they both giggled.

Stormwing glanced around in faint panic, wondering what the question was. "Um, I'm really confused. I kind of zoned out and I missed what you said."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Quilltail purred, whiskers twitching, clearly holding back a laugh. The striped gray tom raised an eyebrow, very lost.

Suddenly he remembered what time it was, glancing up at the sky, he confirmed it: it was sunhigh. He turned to the she-cats around him and smiled. "I have to go now," he mewed, his smile a bit crooked. Starlingsong nodded, tilting her head at him.

"Good luck," she called to him as he stood up and detangled his tail from Cricketfur's. The Clan, and Duskstar, for that matter, had been told that Birdfeather had a warning sign from StarClan and that Stormwing was to accompany her to the Moonstone, just in case. Cricketfur touched noses with him before mewing a brief goodbye.

In the corner of his eye, the gray tom saw Stoneclaw bristle as they touched noses. He could've sworn that there was anger in his gaze; was the steely tom interested in Cricketfur?

Ignoring his glare, Stormwing moved into the medicine den just in time to run into Birdfeather. They both let out muffled sounds of surprise before each recognized the other and laughed.

"Ready?" Stormwing asked, nudging the pale brown she-cat with his paw. She rolled her eyes and nodded, and they headed out of camp.

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><p>They arrived at RiverClan's camp an hour or two before sunset. Stormwing stiffened as the stench of sickness hit his nose. It was sickly sweet and smelled rotten, like old fruit.<p>

"Greencough," Birdfeather whispered dreadfully, her neck fur bristling. She darted forward, leaving Stormwing to struggle to catch up, him still holding the fresh stock of catmint. They both rushed into the medicine cat den, startling Heatherspots, the RiverClan medicine cat. Her amber eyes widened in hope when she caught a glimpse of the bundle of herbs.

"Is that…" she began in her soft voice. Her yellowish pelt rippled as she padded toward them. Birdfeather nodded, and took the herbs from Stormwing's jaws. He breathed a sigh of relief. It took all his self-control to not devour the sweet leaves, though he had nibbled at the end of one, slightly. It had been minty and tasted amazing.

The pretty ShadowClan medicine cat hurried to help distribute the leaves among everyone in the den. Stormwing looked around, observing the cats there and the conditions they were in. There was Pearlnose, a cream-colored elder that he recognized from Gatherings, a little patchy red-and-brown tom kit no more than four or five moons old, a skinny black tom with yellow eyes that probably was around his own age, and the deputy, Minnowfall himself. Wanting to keep the sick cats company, he settled down between the kit and the skinny black tom, grinning and trying to look friendly.

He sat down quietly, tucking his tail around his paws. "What's your name?" he asked the little patched kit. The kit had green eyes and well-groomed fur. He didn't seem like he was sick.

"I'm Patchkit," he mewed with an arrogant sting. He tipped his head up so his nose was in the air. "I'm not sick," he added, "but Heatherspots said I _had to _stay inside after falling into the creek. Who are you?"

Stormwing blinked. This kit certainly was confident with himself. He chuckled. "I'm Stormwing," he replied, grinning, "and I'd advise you to listen to Heatherspots. You seem like the type to get into trouble easily."

Patchkit huffed, and Stormwing heard the black tom next to him laugh, his voice raspy. The gray tom turned to face him, and twitched his whiskers. "You don't know how right you are," he chuckled, yellow eyes bright with laughter. "He's always running off, out of camp, down the river, you name it." His skinny frame looked weary from the greencough, but he still appeared full of energy, at least in his smile. "My name is Sparrowfang," he mewed, nodding at him.

He was awfully mature for a cat his age, and proper, too. Stormwing smiled. He was going to like this tom.

The two talked for a bit while Birdfeather and Heatherspots treated their patients. The tom was polite, and mostly listened, which was a gift from StarClan since Stormwing was usually the listener. They didn't talk about serious matters, instead joking around and, well, being toms.

Minnowfall grumbled something under his breath about young toms being utterly stupid and as Stormwing turned to get a good look at him, he realized for the first time that the deputy was black with very light gray paws, so much so that they looked white. It made him immediately wary of the tom - was he the one responsible for his mother's death? He tried to push the thought away, telling himself that only a trusted warrior would be made deputy, not a killer.

Then, just like that, it was time to head to the Moonstone. Stormwing said his farewells, earning a sniff of contempt from Patchkit, and a friendly reply from Sparrowfang. He and Birdfeather trotted out of the den with an hour left until sundown.

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><p>The Moonstone was huge. It was a giant, shimmering crystal, and it towered over Stormwing's head. The moon wasn't directly overhead yet, meaning that they would have to wait a bit. He turned to Birdfeather, sitting down.<p>

She did the same. "What are you going to do if Ravenflight isn't… you know, the murderer?" she asked, tilting her head a tad. He blinked in mild shock.

"Find out who the real murderer is, of course," he replied with a twitch of his ear, "and find enough evidence to prove that Ravenflight isn't guilty." It came so naturally to him, as if he had known that whole time that he was going to do so.

"And if she is…?"

He gulped. He didn't want to think that way, because he was so sure that Ravenflight was innocent. She needed to be innocent. She had to be. Right? "Then," he mewed carefully, "then I avenge Cinderfoot's death."

It was her turn to stare in shock. "What if…" she flattened her ears in discomfort. "…what if they don't know?"

They both sat in silence, staring at each other. Stormwing didn't have an answer to that question. He simply stared at his paws.

"In any case," she broke the uncomfortable silence, a bit cheerful, "I'd like to meet Ravenflight when this is all over." She glanced up, realizing that the moon was almost at its peak. She flicked her tail at the jaw-dropping rock. "After you," she mewed, flicking an ear (as was her habit when shocked, amused, or annoyed).

Wordlessly, Stormwing padded over to the large, magnificent stone and inhaled a deep breath of anticipation. Closing his eyes, he laid down, tucking his paws under his chest, and pressed his nose against the cold surface of the Moonstone.

He was immediately thrust into light as the cold from the rock seeped into his nose and he was transported to StarClan. He had been here only once before, and was not yet used to the transition. Blinking several times, his eyes adjusted to the beauty around him. The grass was lush and greener than back in ShadowClan's marshes, and many cats with starry pelts shared tongues, caught prey, and interacted peacefully. No clan boundaries. No wars. No murderers.

Many cats turned to look at him quizzically; he wasn't a medicine cat, or a leader, or even a deputy; what was he doing in StarClan? They must have shrugged it off, however, because they resumed eating, conversing, and sharing tongues. One cat, a very faded tortoiseshell she-cat, padded toward him, looking friendly.

"Hello, Stormwing," she mewed, tipping her head to the side. "What brings you to StarClan?" He blinked, taken aback.

"How do you know my name?" he mused, twitching his tail. The tortoiseshell laughed, making him flatten his ears in annoyance and slight embarrassment.

"I'm in StarClan, what did you think?" she chuckled. Her eyes twinkled with laughter. "My name is Turtle Tail. Can I help you find somebody?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Turtle… Tail?" he repeated dubiously. "Is that even a Clan name?" It sounded like it could be… but it didn't sound quite right.

"I'm an ancient, as you cats call us," she purred in laughter. "I'm old. We didn't have proper Clan names. Now, before the sun comes up and you don't get the information you need, tell me who you're looking for."

Stormwing blinked again, probably for the hundredth time that day. Who was he looking for? He squinted a bit, thinking. "Cinderfoot," he decided at long last. She nodded, smiling warmly.

"I thought so. She's been expecting you. Follow me," she mewed, turning her back to him and flicking her tail.

He followed, and they walked to an area of StarClan that had thicker trees, although they weren't close enough to block out the stars. There were cats he presumed to be from ShadowClan; who else could be comfortable in such shadowy places, even in StarClan?

_Ravenflight, _the annoying voice whispered. He almost growled out loud.

One of the cats, a dark gray she-cat with lighter speckles jumped to her paws as she saw him. She dashed over to him, greeting him with a lick to the ears.

"Stormwing, my kit," she meowed, sounding joyful. She nuzzled his cheek. "My baby, all grown up."

He forced back the lump in his throat and smiled back at his mother. "Hi, Cinderfoot."

Cinderfoot tilted one ear to the side, showing confusion in her own unique way, a habit she had since kithood. "What are you here for?" she questioned, pulling away a bit so they could speak without touching, "Surely not just to visit me?"

He shook his head. "Not here," he replied, glancing around at the other cats around him. He recognized a few; Flintfur, Ashpetal's mate, and Leaf-fur, Badgerpaw's grandfather. Turtle Tail had already left them.

Cinderfoot nodded in understanding, leading him away from the gathered cats to a secluded shelter among the trees. They both settled down, and each made sure no one was there before beginning.

"This is about my death, isn't it?" his mother asked him bluntly. He blinked (again) before nodding. She sighed, looking at her paws. "What do you want to know?"

He gulped, glancing away briefly. Where should he start? "Well, I, uh…" he stuttered, shifting his paws a bit. How could he phrase this? "Was there something, oh I don't know, weird about your death?"

The dark gray she-cat snorted. "I died. Of course it was weird." She shook her head disbelievingly. "Why are you asking this?"

Stormwing sighed in exasperation. He trusted him mother to not tell anyone, but… she was a worry wort sometimes. She might panic. "Well," he started, uneasy, "I have this theory about… Ravenfllight. I don't really think she's the murderer." He ignored her as she widened her eyes and leaned her head away from him slightly, shocked. "Just, hear me out. Was there something different you noticed? Did you see who murdered you? Did they, well, not look like Ravenflight?"

Cinderfoot fell silent. "I never saw who killed me," she murmured quietly. "My throat was torn out from behind. But…" her eyes sparked and she straightened up, voice growing a bit louder. "Pouncefoot and I talked once… he said that he did see the cat who killed him. He couldn't tell if it was female or male, but it was a black cat with four white paws. Only… the eyes weren't blue."

"I knew it!" Stormwing exclaimed, warmth rising in his chest. "So what color were they?" There were very few cats with black fur and white paws: surely if he knew the eye color, he'd know the real murderer. But Cinderfoot didn't reply. "Well?" he asked, not unkindly.

"He said he didn't know," she muttered, clearly hiding something. "It's just… not blue."

Stormwing gaped at her. "That can't be-"

"I don't know, alright?" she practically screamed, unsheathing her claws. She seemed in a haze, her eyes unfocused and her ears laid back. This was not the cool, quiet mother he knew. Then her eyes widened in shock as she was brought back to reality.

"I'm sorry, Stormwing," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. Stormwing stared in astonishment, and opened his mouth to speak before she cut him off. "That's all I know. Please don't come back here." She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head slowly, before turning around and dashing off blindly into the woods of StarClan.

_She's hiding something, _his pestering voice grumbled, _but at least you know that Ravenflight is innocent. Heck, you can go mate with her after you get back._

_Shut up, you idiot. That's not funny._

_I thought it was. Ha. Ha. _It seemed to laugh dully, mocking him.

_Just… stop it, before I rip your guts out!_

It made a tsking noise, and Stormwing imagined it to be shaking its head. _Like I said, I'm just part of your thoughts. You're controlling me, "idiot"._

_Shut up._

_Whatever you say, Stormy._

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><p><strong>Okay. Well, at least I finished and uploaded this… 11 minutes before the end of Christmas day. So yay! This is a Christmas present to you all!<strong>

**-Sky**


	9. Chapter 8

**Oh StarClan so many wonderful reviews! :D**

**Snowflower3618: **Well… you'll see soon enough, in another chapter or two. ^^ I will tell you though, that there is no cat with four white paws atm. Just keep reading. :D

**Guest: **Well, I can't exactly tell you yet… It might give stuff away. Ah, screw it, I'll tell you. She kind of "lost interest" in Thornpelt, so to speak. Oops. Already said too much. THIS IS CONFIDENTIAL DON'T TELL ANYBODY and if you do, tell them not to tell anybody. K?

**splinterclaw: **Why thank you, my good reviewer!

**Peters6221: **Henhenhen. You are on the right track.

**Lilyshine: **Wow. I'm very impressed at your sleuthing skills. IT'S PATCHKIT HAHAHA jk. Wait. Maybe it is and I'm just tricking you?! Anyway, you connected most of the dots. There are a LOT more twists in this plot, and I doubt you'll figure out them all… :) if you do, however, I applaud you.

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>I was running in the forest. I assumed it was a pine forest, but I was too panicked to care. Rain plastered my fur to my sides, and my chest heaved as I pushed on.<p>

Why was I panicked? Why was I running?

_Patchpaw. Patchpaw._

Wait, what?

Patchpaw? Not Patchkit?

My heart twisted in fear and urgency, but I couldn't understand why. Was Patchkit in danger? Patchpaw? Bagderpaw...

What?

Badgerpaw?

Why was I suddenly filled with pity, and fear, and panic?

The dappled spots of sunlight brushed across my pelt, but for some strange reason, it didn't bother me. Tall pine trees whizzed by, and a black thunderpath. It felt sticky underpaw, and my pads burned. But in an instant, I was back on the other side again.

_Patchpaw, Patchpaw._

Briefly, I turned around. There, pursuing me, was Nightsoul. Its eyes were still open, gaped spaces, and it was still scrawny as before, but it had none of the cuts on its body as it had in my dream. It still had four white paws and it was still black-furred, but something was off about its paws. They were leaving white paw prints behind. Was it the rain? Was the rain _melting _its fur off?

Suddenly the leaves and slippery ground beneath me gave way and I felt myself falling, tumbling, head-over paws into nothingness. Into a pit of sorts. The dusty ground was littered with sharp-looking rocks, and moments before I landed, my vision dissolved into darkness.

I woke up, gasping for breath. It had been a nightmare, of course. My eyes adjusted to my surroundings, taking it all in. Where was I? When did I fall asleep?

I was under a tree, I presumed, looking up into its shady branches. Scents told me that I was in ThunderClan territory. Marvelous. There, just across from where I was slumped against the tree, was a trail where I had blundered through. Bushes were flattened and twigs were broken, clearly pinpointing the path I had taken. How had I gotten so careless? I squinted through the branches and looked up at the sun. It was a bit after dawn. Rising to my paws, I stretched, trying to ease the throb in my side from leaning against the tree roots.

I remembered it now; I was looking for a den to call my own, but it couldn't be just any den, it had to be safe, neutral, and dark. Of course I hadn't found such a place, other than my tree, but that was off-limits forever. So, weary with exhaustion, I had collapsed beneath this shady oak.

Thank StarClan that I had woken before a patrol found me. Shaking out my fur, I looked around, scenting the air to make sure no one was near. My eyes widened as I caught a whiff of ShadowClan, fairly fresh. Who could be all the way out here in ThunderClan territory? There was only one cat I could think of: a certain light gray tom with brilliant amber eyes.

Had he followed me from Fourtrees? Had he… come to bring me news? Another death? Or… perhaps he realized that I really did murder Cinderfoot, and he was here for vengeance. If that was the case, I would say I told him so before letting him kill me.

Should I track the scent? Or was it even aware of my presence? I decided, with a slight nod, that I wouldn't risk it.

Turning away, I stalked quietly along in the shadows, searching for a home.

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><p>She scented me.<p>

I knew it. She tipped her head back and her eyes got wide as she registered my scent. Would she discover me and kill me? I held back a laugh. If she tried, she'd be in for a surprise. It was almost a disappointment that she ignored me and moved on. Waiting for the right time to kill me? Waiting for the witnesses to be farther away?

I glanced down at my paws, unsheathing my claws and staring at them in awe. Such deadly weapons were graced upon kits at such a young age - didn't StarClan know that it was dangerous? I let a giggle slip through, and watched as the beautiful - no, not beautiful; more like deceptive - she-cat stopped in her tracks. Her head swiveled around, trying to pinpoint the sound. Perhaps she was finally in the mood for a murder. Her four dainty white paws seemed to glow in the shadow of the trees while the rest of her pelt blended in so she was nearly invisible. Her icy blue eyes glinted; in fear or malice?

Suddenly she sighed, her voice holding a twinge of pain, and looked directly into my amber eyes with her blue ones. But how? I had been concealed in a bush. My claws shredded the ground anxiously, waiting for her to strike so I could rid the world of her.

"Stormwing, I know it's you," she whispered quietly, only just loud enough so I could hear. "It doesn't matter if you believe me or not; it's dangerous for you to be around me."

I blinked, confused, before narrowing my eyes in anger. She thought that I was Stormwing… which meant that she was expecting him to come back. Why? Then, as realization dawned on me, my eyes widened in horror. My brother was completely under her spell.

Ravenflight looked puzzled as she studied the emotions in my eyes. Of course, she thought I was Stormwing, so she anticipated some lovestruck gaze. Well, no matter. I glared at her, hissing, before backing out of the bush I was hidden in, away from the murderer.

Now was not the time to strike.

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><p>I blinked in astonishment. That tom, hidden in the gorse bush, was not Stormwing. He was a ShadowClanner, and had amber eyes, but he had… hissed at me. Though I had only known Stormwing for a little while, I could tell that the cat following me was not the light gray tabby tom.<p>

Then who?

My eyes widened in horror. Perhaps it was a scout, watching me and reporting my position to its Clan? Or even to ThunderClan? If so, I needed to move, and fast.

Picking up my paws as fast as I could, I dashed away from where I had been, and headed toward the RiverClan border. I tried to leave no trail, but it was painfully hard not to, trying to wind my way past thorns and thistles. There, Patchkit would be waiting for me. Hopefully, I could lose the patrol if there was one, and meet the little kit by sunhigh.

I burst through the end of the treeline, and found myself staring across the stream to where a little red and brown kit was crying loudly. Next to him were two warriors whom I didn't recognize. When they saw me, they growled, while Patchkit screamed at me to run away.

My eyes widened in fear. They had caught Patchkit sneaking out of camp. I groaned in agitation. He had led them right to me!

No matter, I could escape.

I always did.

I turned tail and ran as fast as I could away before the two warriors could cross the stream, my fur flat against my sides. Was this what I saw in my dream? I looked around. No. It wasn't raining, nor was Patchkit in danger. Or was he? I turned around to check, and took a sharp breath in. The larger warrior, a reddish brown tom with gray eyes, was catching up to me. He looked an awful lot like Patchkit; was he his father?

Putting on an extra burst of speed, I whizzed past the trees and shrubs, not aware of direction or boundaries. This tom wouldn't cross a border just to catch me, now would he?

He would, apparently. I had leaped across the border into WindClan territory, and he had followed. I tried to ignore the sun beating down on my skin, scorching it, burning it, suffocating it, and instead focused on some place I could hide. I had left the tom far enough behind to disappear into a den without him realizing, but in these open hills of WindClan, I couldn't find anywhere to shelter.

Then I spotted an opening, like a hole in the ground. Dashing toward it with the last of my energy, I plunged back into comforting darkness, scrambling as far in as I could, not looking back.

I ended up losing my footing and tumbling down into the tunnel, dirt seeping into my pelt and into my eyes. When I finally regained my bearings, I registered that I was in a sloping tunnel that led down into some sort of cave. Feeling unsure, I inched downward, peering into the more open space. What I saw absolutely stunned me.

It was everything I could wish for. It was dark, and I guessed it was neutral, seeing as it was underground, and no one would find me here. There was a small pool of fresh water in the corner, with other tunnels leading away from the cave as an escape way of sorts. I could even detect the slightest hint of mouse inside.

This was it; I had found my new home, and I didn't intend to lose it.

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><p><strong>This was a stupid little filler chapter, I know. But thanks to Lilyshine for the tunnels idea! Before any of you say, "there wasn't a tunnel network in the old forest <strong>**weh weh weh," there was. In the Warriors guide, it says that there were tunnels, and that StarClan rejoiced when they found tunnels in the new forest. Plus, if any of you read Tallstar's revenge, you would know.**

**Review please!**

**-Sky**


	10. Chapter 9

**Time to answer some reviews!**

**Snowflower3618: **Don't worry, Ravenflight is a very… well... forgiving and understanding character, if not a bit gullible. She won't hate Patchkit. :3

**splinterclaw: **thanks!

**Lilyshine: **Hmm… I'm pretty sure that milk would rub off way too quickly and wouldn't stain the paws at all… xD haha! But you're on the right track, sort of. Just saying, you're the reviewer with the most correct/sort of correct guesses so far! :D

**Night That Shines Silver: **AHH THANK YOU :D

**tye dye tail: **Hehe thanks! :)

**jazara evergreen: **Oh, I probably will leave the typo there. xD *whisper* no one shall know...

** : **Thank you! :D

**Now its time for Stormwing to go Sherlock Holmes on us!**

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><p>"Birdfeather, you have to help me on this. Focus. Do you remember everyone supposedly killed by the White-Pawed Murderer?"<p>

The stunning light brown she-cat groaned and flexed her claws, clearly thinking hard. Her ear was twitching again, a sign that she was still in shock about what he heard in StarClan. She scrunched her eyes shut, and then opened them again, her green eyes brighter with a little bit more understanding. "I can only recall a few," she muttered, narrowing her eyes in thought, "mostly from what was reported last Gathering. But I do remember Owlheart, the first one, Snakeclaw, Graywhisker, Pouncefoot, and, obviously, Cinderfoot. Other than that… I don't think any other cats were murdered in our Clan besides your mother, thank StarClan. So I honestly don't remember."

Stormwing pressed his lips into a fine line. "Well," he mewed after a while, "I guess that's something. Now, what do they all have in common?"

"They're all dead?" Birdfeather meowed, rolling her eyes. The light gray tom shot her a warning glare to which she responded by making a face. They both rolled their eyes, each running out of patience.

They had been brainstorming ever since they had gotten back from Highstones, a bit past dawn, in Birdfeather's den, and now it was long past sunhigh. Neither had any explanation towards what had happened, save a few scraps of hints here and there. All they had figured out so far were the possible suspects; cats with black fur or very dark gray. There was Ravenflight, of course, and Nightfeather, Sparrowfang, Otterpelt, Badgerpaw (who was a dark gray), Stoneclaw (dark gray again), Duskstar (dark gray), Shadowleaf (also dark gray), Darkpaw, and… Minnowfall. To say the least, Stormwing was wary of the RiverClan deputy. But… wasn't he Owlheart's own brother?

Many of the suspects seemed impossible. Firstly, Stormwing had no intention of suspecting Badgerpaw. He was an apprentice, and his own brother! With that thought came Darkpaw as well, the ThunderClan apprentice. Clearly it wasn't her. He didn't want to suspect Sparrowfang or Stoneclaw, his newly made friend and his friend since kit-hood. But they were a possibility as well. After all, he barely knew Sparrowfang, and Stoneclaw seemed a bit… odd recently, to say it nicely. A bit more ambitious? It was probably just a phase. That left Nightfeather, Otterpelt, definitely _not _Duskstar, Shadowleaf, and Minnowfall. Nightfeather was out. She wouldn't frame her daughter and kill her mate, would she? And wasn't Otterpelt Ravenflight's grandfather? Was he out as well? But then, wouldn't that rule out Minnowfall, since he was her uncle? So that left Shadowleaf… wait, didn't she die of greencough?

It was all too confusing. There were too many names, scenarios, and factors to take into consideration. None of these cats even had white paws except for Nightfeather and Darkpaw, (Minnowfall sort of has white paws, he guessed), and none of them had all four paws in that color. Nightfeather had one, if he recalled correctly, and Darkpaw and Minnowfall had… two, was it?

He let out a groan and clawed at the ground in frustration, tearing up some grass with his sharp claws. And all of this was based on what he found out from Cinderfoot! How was he supposed to know if she was even telling the truth? Or did she even know what happened? Was Pouncefoot bluffing? Was Ravenflight the murderer after all?

_No, anything but that_, he mewed to his mind. That was the most illogical thing of all. He just had to completely trust what he had discovered while in StarClan.

Hold it.

"Birdfeather, you have the best memory of anyone in the Clan, and you've been to every Gathering since the murders began, and even before," he began meowing urgently, with a newfound idea. "Cinderfoot told me that the cat's eyes weren't blue. She couldn't tell what color, but they were definitely not Ravenflight's color. We need to rule off as many suspects as we can."

The pretty pale brown she-cat raised an eyebrow at him before pressing her lips into a thin line and scrunching up her nose, delving back into her memory. Then, after a moment, she flicked her ear passively. "Nightfeather has blue eyes," she began, feeling more curious and less agitated, "so does Otterpelt, and Duskstar. And… I think that's all. But I could've made a mistake, or its a cat we don't remember, or its not a Clan cat at all. But this is the only information we have."

"Hmm…" Stormwing murmured, deep in thought. "I felt something weird about Minnowfall when we were at RiverClan," he confessed, tilting his head to the side and studying Birdfeather's stony expression. "He has really light gray paws, enough so to look white. And he seemed kind of restless and angry."

The medicine cat sighed, shifting her weight a bit. "Honestly, I think that that's the way he naturally is," she mewed, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time that day. "But I've heard rumors that he doesn't believe in StarClan. I'm not sure what to think of those rumors, but he must have been a reliable warrior, to have been made deputy."

Stormwing opened his mouth to interject, but Birdfeather suddenly stiffened and flicked her tail over his mouth, silencing him with a glare. "Later," she whispered, tilting her ears to the den entrance. He nodded in understanding, and rose to his feet.

Starlingsong blundered into the den, breathing heavily, and Birdfeather turned, plastering a smile onto her face. "Cramping again?" she mewed light-heartedly, padding forward calmly to help Starlingsong to her nest. The pregnant queen simply nodded shakily and slumped into her pine needle and moss nest, her eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion. Just looking at her, Stormwing knew that she'd have her kits very, very soon.

And yet, he felt sorry for the kits. Starlingsong had never mentioned a father, and she had no mate in ThunderClan. Hopefully she hadn't been involved in a forbidden love with a cat from another Clan, but it was a possibility. After all, hadn't he heard her once say that she liked cats that could run like WindClan?

Maybe he was just misjudging her, and he shouldn't poke his nose where it didn't belong. It wasn't his problem. He only hoped that the rest of the Clan would accept the kits, no matter how unknown their father was.

His thoughts were interrupted by a friendly - and slightly strained - hello from Starlingsong. The said queen hadn't seen him zone out, and was probably a bit lightheaded from the pain. "What's going on?" she mewed, grinning despite her heaving stomach.

"Oh, nothing much," he lied, purring in a nonchalant way. The light brown tabby smirked in mischief before giving him an all-knowing look.

"Did you ask Birdfeather for 'she-cat advice' again?" she meowed, wiggling her whiskers. "So am I right to assume that you and Cricketfur are official?"

Stormwing blinked - he seemed to do that a lot recently - and raised an eyebrow. "Official about what?" he asked, puzzled. Starlingsong mirrored his confused expression, tipping her head to the side.

"Wait, you're not being serious, right?" she mewed, her ears pricking a bit nervously. Then she sighed in exasperation. "Either it's your cluelessness, Cricketfur's keen personality, or both, but the latest Clan news says that you two are mates. Cricketfur said so herself."

The light gray tom gaped at the queen. Since when? What had he missed? _Mates? What in StarClan?_

_Wait a minute, there have been signs, and I just didn't notice, _he thought to himself, still in shock. He remembered how Cricketfur twined her orange-and-white tail with his, and the way she looked at him. How could he have dismissed them like that? It was obvious - to every cat except him. But she never asked him to be his mate… had she?

"This isn't right," he mewed to Starlingsong, exiting the den and leaving the light brown tabby taken aback in astonishment. He swiveled his head around, trying to locate his friend - or was she more? - and heading off in her direction as he glimpsed her near the nursery. He padded off, not knowing if he should feel angry or violated… perhaps both. Hadn't they been close friends since kit hood…? But he only saw her as a sisterly figure, nothing more, nothing less.

"Cricketfur," he mewed when he came into hearing range of her, "we need to talk."

The orange-and-white she-cat turned to look at him and smiled. Her tufted ears still flicking happily, she spoke a quick word to Stoneclaw before padding to join him, amber eyes sparkling. "Stormwing!" she practically cheered, licking his cheek, "what is it you want to talk about?"

The amber-eyed tom stiffed a bit as she licked him, and he didn't fail to notice Stoneclaw's seething glare as he retreated into the warriors den. His heart sank in his chest. _Oh, why can't this work out the way it should? _he almost yelled aloud. _Stoneclaw and I were best friends… and then Cricketfur messed it all up. Can't she see that Stoneclaw likes her, and I… I don't?_

_Yeah, you're in love __with Ravenflight, _an all-too-familiar voice said.

_Shut up._

"Cricketfur, I heard from someone-" he didn't use Starlingsong's name; he knew it would only add to the drama, "-that you and I were officially, um, mates." He bit his lip, glancing away. What could he say? "When did you ask me?" he interrogated, suddenly switching to the offense. "Why didn't you? Why did you tell everyone without my consent?"

Her amber eyes grew huge in shock, and her ears stopped twitching. "What?" she stuttered, sounding lost. "But I thought… But you…"

Stormwing suddenly felt guilty for putting her down, and swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry I led you on," he consoled her gently, "but even though I don't like you in _that_ way, I love you like a sister. Please…" He looked into her eyes. "Please understand. I didn't know that you… cared for me the way you do." He sighed, his whiskers quivering at the disturbance in the air.

The pretty she-cat looked to the ground sadly, her eyes pooling with distress and heartbreak. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her ears flattening and her head drooping, "I shouldn't have thought... I should have seen this coming, and I…" she broke off, her eyes shining with tears that he could see that she was trying to hold back. "I knew you loved me like a friend, like a littermate, even, and I'm so sorry for… for pushing it like I did. I…" she bit her lip and looked directly in his eyes, her expression lonely, broken, and dark. Then, finding no other words to say, she pelted out of the camp as fast as she could, leaving Stormwing still standing in front of the warriors den, dazed.

He didn't know if he should feel angry or guilty. Had he broken her heart, or had he ended an impossible relationship? He didn't know.

He also didn't know that a stone-colored tom was grinning maliciously at the scene that unfolded in front of him, his next few moons already planned.

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><p><strong>Urgh. This was a tough chapter to write. It was focused on two entirely different topics, and this is highly unsatisfactory.<strong>

**So yeaaah. I'm going to write in Ravenflight's POV next, as usual, but after that, I'll let you guys choose one POV you'd like to see. K? **

**Now go review, grasshopper.**

**-Sky**


	11. Chapter 10

**Hey guys… sorry for the brief hiatus. I recently binged on a whole bunch of AOT, so I neglected my fanfictions. Oops.**

**Anyway, I won't answer reviews this time. It would give too much away.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Darkness. On the first day in my new home, I made a discovery: darkness was lonely.<p>

Perhaps, subconsciously, I knew how cold and alone I was in the depths of my isolation, but I never felt the stinging ache that I felt now. Had it been my excessive interaction with cats? Stormwing? Patchkit, perhaps? Or maybe it was the sinking of my stomach as I realized that a cat had been watching me? I didn't know, and now, the little hole in my heart was burning away at my chest.

This was a problem. I was craving for interaction with other cats, and probably feeding more power to Nightsoul. Or does Nightsoul even exist? Ever since the encounter with the amber-eyed tom, I began to doubt my guilt. Did it really make sense? Was I really possessed? A horrific image of Nightsoul's torn-up, bleeding, eye-less face flashed before my eyes, and I wobbled on my paws. Had I hallucinated such pictures? But… if it was simply a nightmare, a delusion… then why did I remember every detail of her - no, its - face?

Black fur… missing eyes, as if they had been wiped away cleanly or covered by something… an ear, torn in half… gleaming, sharp white fangs… an unnatural grin, creasing its entire face… the memory alone was enough to send shudders through my fur. Could I really have imagined such a creature? Was I really a murderer? Or did the dream have some sort of sign?

My den was perfect, but it wasn't enough to distract me from my thoughts. They wandered in every possible direction, making me doubt the existence of my night-soul. Could it be? Was I… completely innocent of these crimes? But what about the evidence? From the very beginning, there was proof of my guilt-

I froze, a strange emotion filling my heart - something between horror and hope - as I realized something. There was a giant, gaping hole in the first murder that no one took into consideration.

Still skeptical, I ran the scene through my head again and again, double-checking my revelation. I was at the river near camp, with Owlheart, and he was teaching me how to fish… right? And I got frustrated that I couldn't catch one because I was afraid of the water… so I turned away, and in that moment, he fell into the rushing depths of the river. I had forgotten all fear in that heartbeat as I plunged under to save him, and I remembered the choking sensation as cold water flooded my lungs. Then I had somehow pulled him out, and after that it was all a blur. The Clan saw the wounds in his neck and the black fur in his claws, and assumed he was attacked and murdered by myself, because logically, I was the only cat around. But… could it be that he was killed by a cat from another Clan? After all, there are cats with black fur in the forest.

Thinking about it, it made logical sense. So whoever murdered my father and the others must have been insane, or had a motive behind each kill. And if it were the first option, I doubted that they'd be able to pull off such a feat.

Stormwing...

I had to go and speak with Stormwing!

Faster than I had ever run before, I darted out of the tunnel, kicking up dust and upsetting my nest. My pads slammed against the cold ground of the tunnel over and over, until suddenly there was no more dirt and I was dashing on soft grass. My fur streamed in the wind and plastered to my sides with the force of the gusts, and I unsheathed my claws to provide better traction. I didn't bother checking for patrols or passing cats, and I never even noticed the glare of the sun on my pelt.

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><p><em>2 years earlier<em>

"Gross. It's Maplepaw," a familiar voice growled in distaste. The pale ginger-and-brown tortoiseshell ducked her head in embarrassment as she hurried past Graypaw's group of bullies. She attempted to pass by them and escape into the apprentice's den, but Fishpaw, a smug-faced tom with a dull orange pelt, stuck out his paw and tripped her. She stumbled to the ground, letting out a barely audible hiss. Graypaw must have heard it over Shadowpaw's obnoxious laugh, because he frowned and glared at her with his golden eyes. "Did you just hiss at Fishpaw?" he spat, making said tom's eyes light with interest and unsheathe his claws.

"No, of course not," Maplepaw insisted, trying to pick herself off of the ground. She kept her eyes fixed on her paws, staring blankly at them. Shadowpaw, a dark gray she-cat with blue eyes, gasped in mock astonishment.

"But I heard it too!" she exclaimed in her overly-dramatic tone of voice, batting her eyelashes in the same way that won her many arguments. She always used her beauty to her advantage. "Are you saying that we're liars?" Fishpaw nodded in agreement as if Shadowpaw were the wisest cat in the Clan, and Lichenpaw shuffled his paws awkwardly while gnawing at his lip. His skittish personality normally made him the target of practical jokes when Maplepaw herself wasn't around.

"Stupid loner-kit!" Graypaw sneered, flashing his teeth, "You should leave the Clan before you contaminate us with your stench." Shadowpaw giggled in response and Fishpaw narrowed his eyes at Maplepaw, being the serious tom he was, but Lichenpaw simply gave a half-hearted "yeah." Maplepaw felt her heart sinking as she realized that no adult cat would stop them; most just passed by, clearly not caring about the fate of the outsider.

She pressed her lips together, trying to conceal her frustration, and muttered, "It's not my fault that I wasn't born with forest blood." Her brownish ears flattened against her skull as she looked away. Her left paw traced a circle in the dirt absentmindedly as she stumbled over her next words, trying to sound as passive and friendly as possible. "I _was_ born on the moors, remember? It doesn't matter if I don't have warrior blood, as long as I help out in the Clan."

"That's mousedung!" Graypaw hissed, grinning. He paused, then broke out into a snicker. "No wait, _you're_ mousedung!"

Something snapped inside of her as Shadowpaw laughed at the comment, but she fought to take control of her emotions, trying to rein them back in and swallowing the lump in her throat. "No I'm not!" she retaliated, glaring back at the four apprentices. "How do you know that I'm not some other Clan's kit? Or even one of yours?"

"Or a kittypet, or a mouse, or even a pile of badger dung?" Shadowpaw cut in, tipping her head to the side and plastering a smile to her face. "You're right, Mousedung! We should've thought of that!"

Maplepaw bit her lip, forcing her curt retort back. There was no way to win this argument, or any argument here. Glaring at the apprentices once more, she stepped around Fishpaw and headed for the apprentice den.

Maplepaw had been found near the entrance to the WindClan camp ten moons ago, and had been taken in out of pity by a nursing queen by the name of Mossflight. However… the whole Clan had not been as accepting. Every day was a test for herself, a test to see if she could prove to the Clan that she could be of use, to be an asset in their survival. And to do that, she couldn't be second-best.

She needed to become the best warrior that WindClan will ever see.

She ducked into the den, the ceiling lightly brushing her dappled head, and peeked around, looking for her only friend in the midst of this challenge. Friendly green eyes met her own as she purred and sat herself down beside the dark brown she-cat.

"Hey, Hazelpaw," she smiled, resting her head on her paws. She saw her friend's look of concern and shrugged, knowing what she was thinking. "I know," she murmured. "They were awful. But that's all the more reason that I need to pass the assessment tomorrow!"

"Maplepaw," she laughed in reply, her ears perking. "How are you always so happy? I would've slashed open Graypaw's throat by now." She shook her head a bit as she spoke about her brother. "He needs to stop acting like an asshole."

The tortoiseshell exhaled softly, amusement glimmering in her eyes. "You said it. His ego needs to deflate by a thousand degrees." They sat in comfortable silence for a while, staring across the room at the opposite wall, when her eyes lit up with anticipation. She scooted over so she was facing Hazelpaw, and grinned. "Now, you have to test me. Warrior code. Go!"

The brown she-cat looked startled for a heartbeat before giving her a defeated-yet-humored look. "Maplepaw, seriousl- no, I won't even ask." She shook her head, laughing. "Ahem. According to legends, which ancient cat was the one to suggest the rule…" She scrunched up her face, thinking hard. "…uh, _'A warrior must help a kit in danger, regardless of its Clan?'_"

"Thunder," the ginger-and-brown she-cat blurted immediately. Her look of utter seriousness must have amused Hazelpaw, because she began to laugh. "What?"

"No, it's just… never mind." She grinned. "You'll definitely ace this, Maplepaw. I know you will."

Maplepaw was happy, despite her circumstances. But that's the funny thing about happiness… even the happiest of us can give way to depression because of a few unthoughtful words:

_Kill yourself._

"Kill yourself, you idiot," Graypaw growled, his usually handsome face distorted with anger. "It's your fault that she died, ugly filth!"

Hazelpaw was dead...

But death doesn't just… _happen_, does it?

No, of course not.

The first day that Hazelpaw discovered her heart condition, she told no one except for Maplepaw.

"Maplepaw… I'm going to die."

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><p><strong>So Maplepaw… is kind of random at this point, but I swear that she has more purpose later on. Okay?<strong>

**And the ending is meant to be choppy, confusing, and skipping around in the timeline.**

**Review please!**

**-Sky**


	12. AN 1

**Hey all… So those of you who follow Distress Call know, but my computer crashed and I kind of had a rage attack. So, to make up for it, I'm going to write the next chapter in any point of view you want! So leave a comment as to which one.**

**-Sky**


	13. Chapter 11

**Hello dear readers! So, I got some requests for Patchpaw's POV, so I'll be writing from his perspective. ^^**

**R&R!**

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><p>When he had first met Ravenflight, he was in love.<p>

Not a romantic way, he was too young for that; he loved her as if she were his older sister.

After all, he never had any siblings of his own.

But somehow, when his little scruff was gripped by the 'White-Pawed Murderer', he felt how gentle she handled him, as if he were her own kit, and he immediately deduced that this could not have been the one who killed Owlheart.

Then why was she herself convinced of her guilt? Her troubled face flashed in his memory as he recalled the scene.

He had slipped out of camp to prove that he was the bravest kit in the nursery, because it was his custom to be the best. His untrained reflexes betrayed him and he had gone sprawling into the water. No wait - the ground was loose and fell from beneath his paws. Yes… that's what he'd tell his friends. And then, he had been rescued by Ravenflight… should he tell the Clan? This could be a potential turnaround for her, but it could also lead to her capture… he had pondered such things before, but now he had no choice.

He still couldn't believe that his father didn't trust him. When he had returned, he decided to tell no one but his father, Emberfall; the gray-eyed tom had called him deranged before lecturing him. Thankfully, he hadn't spilled to the Clan, but he confined him to camp for a moon, even after his apprenticeship. Patchpaw had snuck out the day he was supposed to meet Ravenflight, however (he never breaks promises), but his actions had only led to her being chased across the WindClan border by Emberfall himself. To top it all off, he had ratted to the WindClan leader, Redstar, to be on the lookout for the 'murderous' she-cat, and then Patchpaw had been labeled as 'temporarily mentally ill' and bound to the medicine cat den.

Patchpaw was nestled in a mossy nest, trying to tune out the sounds of hacking and wheezing coming from everywhere and anywhere at once. He had been lucky to avoid greencough, even after falling into the creek, but at this rate, it wouldn't be long before he began to cough out his lungs as well.

Well, at least he'd be dead before the Clan decides to retire him at seven moons.

His new denmate, Sparrowfang, was trying hard to get Patchpaw to talk about Ravenflight over the course of the last few days. He had been the only curious one, and although he didn't support his opinion completely, he was still ready to change his mind if Patchpaw had given him good reason to.

However, Patchpaw didn't tell him anything out of fear that the lean black tom would make him seem like an even bigger fool to the Clan. To put it simply, the little apprentice didn't trust him, even though he was his mentor.

The red and brown kit tried not to wince. How could he _not_ trust this tom? He was his mentor as well as the only supportive cat, for StarClan's sake! It seemed to be a gift from StarClan that he'd gotten such a great cat to be his teacher.

_Well, who else but a great tom to mentor a great apprentice?_ he praised himself, one ear tilting so it was higher than the other in his own egotistic way. As always, his split personality was acting up, fighting for dominance between his wise, thoughtful half and his reckless, self-absorbed half. As he was struggling to get his emotions in order, he smelled the presence of two new cats, and he turned his head to see, all inner conflict forgotten.

Two ShadowClan cats stepped into the den, and they brought with them the sweet smell of catmint as well as their Clan-stink. The first to enter was a beautiful pale brown she-cat with a plumy tail and green eyes, which he guessed was the medicine cat based on the scent of herbs around her and her unscarred pelt. The second was a handsome, friendly-looking tom with a light gray pelt and amber eyes, who was probably a warrior. The two of them spoke briefly with Heatherspots before they jumped to action. The medicine cat began distributing the catmint at a furious pace, while the tom glanced around once before settling in between Sparrowfang and Patchpaw.

He sat down and wrapped his tail around his paws, getting comfortable. He tipped his head at Patchpaw and asked, "What's your name?"

Patchpaw stuck his nose in the air, knowing that he looked much better groomed and healthy than the other sick cats. "I'm Patchpaw," he mewed, not facing him fully but looking at him through the corner of his eye, "I'm not sick, but Heatherspots said I had to stay inside after falling in the creek." He left out the part about the Clan thinking he was insane. "Who are you?"

The tom blinked, then laughed quietly. "I'm Stormwing," he introduced himself, "and I'd advise you to listen to Heatherspots. You seem like the type to get into trouble easily."

The patchy little tom huffed and opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by a laugh from Sparrowfang, his voice still raspy from sickness."You don't know how right you are," he grinned weakly, turning his attention away from Patchpaw for the first time in weeks and speaking to _Stormwing_. For some reason this irked him, and he snapped his head upward and away from the two of them, letting out a quiet "Hmph!"

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><p>Days passed, and Patchpaw began noticing strange things happening in camp that he never would have noticed before.<p>

There was a lot of drama in the Clan.

He sat with Sparrowfang all day, observing the happenings and commenting on how ridiculous they were. By the time the third day rolled around, he had learned that Streamstar had an addiction to catmint, Otterpelt had a huge fight with Pearlnose, and that Emberfall had badly injured a clanmate in his sleep, apparently while having a dream about a battle with kittypets. And this was just the Clan gossip; the juicer forest gossip was yet to come.

This subcategory of news consisted of rumors about Minnowfall's distrust of young cats, Copperstar's neglected kits, and Barknose's new mate, Rustfeather. The latter was apparently extremely scandalous and popular among gossip sessions, although Patchpaw had no idea why. When discussing about it later with Sparrowfang, he had explained that it was because Cinderfoot, his previous mate, had died and he had just moved on without question.

"It's terrible, but ironic," he had sighed, shaking his head and yellow eyes darkening with sorrow. "Cinderfoot herself switched mates, and when she died, Barknose did the same thing. I wouldn't be surprised if the murderer wasn't Ravenflight, like you said, and was really a jealous Thornpelt."

Patchpaw had pondered this, if the murderer was Thornpelt and he was simply overcome with an envious rage. But if that was the case, then what motives could he have conjured to kill the other cats, like Owlheart or Snakeclaw?

It was around dawn when Patchpaw and Sparrowfang were sprawled around in the medicine cat den, bored out of their minds, and that was when they decided to tell stories to one another; at least, Sparrowfang could tell a lot because Patchpaw didn't have as much to tell. He had started with stories of his sister, who was usually the main topic of his conversations, and then he began to tell the story of a friend of his, Graywhisker, who had been murdered recently. He had started by saying how they met, at a Gathering.

"He was Graypaw then," Sparrowfang reminisced. "and I was Sparrowpaw. I had met him at my first Gathering, and I was extremely shy back then, so his boldness appealed to me. He told me that he was the best apprentice in WindClan, and that all the other apprentices either loved him or feared him, including a loner-kit named Maplepaw." Patchpaw blinked in confusion, but his puzzlement was cleared away as Sparrowfang elaborated, his yellow eyes shining with nostalgia. "Maplepaw was adopted into the Clan, but no one knew where she was from. Graywhisker… I mean, Graypaw," he corrected, chuckling a little, "told me that he hated her, but I could tell that he liked her. I did too… it was hard not to. She was a very pretty cat, and kind, too."

He ducked his head a bit in embarrassment, but shook his head sadly as he continued. "Graypaw wasn't good at expressing his feelings, you see, and all he did was tease and bully her. Then, his sister died. She had a heart problem, and she only told Maplepaw, but she was sworn to secrecy. If it had been revealed sooner, then she would have lived. When Graypaw found out that Maplepaw knew all along, he lost it, and tormented her to the point of suicide."

Sparrowfang's facial expression looked numb, and his eyes were glossed over with a strange emotion between anger and sadness. When he looked up and saw Patchpaw's face, he perked up and plastered on a smile.

"Sorry… I guess that's not a very happy story," he murmured, giving him a half-smile. He sighed and settled in deeper into his nest before nodding at Patchpaw. "Your turn," he mewed, suddenly cheery, "tell me about Ravenflight… why isn't she the murderer, according to you?"


End file.
